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The mood was to run in the evening in the summer. Everything is fine here, the cops go to pee on the street in the toilets across the steppe, then their buggy breaks down and the good-natured driver starts to repair it for them. I climbed the hills, the gas station says that it is 33 degrees outside. But soft with the wind. It smokes from the thermal power plant as if a nuclear winter has flown through clubs of radioactive ash. In one restaurant they get married and a strange tussah happens every time they dance in the place of their mafon, in another, the permanent Miyagi sings and there is also a party. Garbage and useful things thrown out
