“I’m standing at the entrance to the slot machine hall, in the shadow of the driveway canopy. I stand and look at the facade of the old Khrushchev five-story building, built, like the vast majority of houses in this microdistrict, more than thirty years ago. I examine this facade extremely carefully and enthusiastically. I owe this fascination to one spontaneous conclusion I recently made: why, in fact, am I, studying this tattered, unsuitable chicken coop from the outside, calling it old? If you think about it, he is the same age as me, he is perhaps even a couple of years younger than me, which, in fact, does not change anything in the current circumstances...”