Continuation of the reader’s favorite story about the cat Martyn. So: for a month and a half now I have been a Munich homeless homeless person. As they say - a cat with no fixed abode. Once upon a time, Shura Plotkin wrote an article about our St. Petersburg homeless people for Rush Hour, wandered around dens, landfills, attics, basements, abandoned sewer manholes, drank vodka with these unfortunate half-People, had conversations with them. And then, stinking of God knows what, he came home, lay down in a hot bath, soaked, and told me various terrible stories about these poor guys, each time saying: “No!” This is only possible with us! Here in the West...