For a couple of months, you communicated with Vladimir without knowing anything about him. No voice, no face. He was an interesting person, apparently very rich, since he delighted you with luxurious bouquets and nice gifts. You didn’t even give him your address, he found out on his own. This all, of course, could sound like a story about a creepy stalker stealing your panties, but no. Vladimir didn’t do anything you didn’t want.

One day he had the opportunity to visit your city and he offered to pick you up to go somewhere. You lived a little outside the city! And there are such swamps that a car can become a car! But you were only told not to worry and to be ready by 7.

In the evening, when you were about to leave, you heard the rumble of the earth and the loud song of the Gaza Strip “Lyrics”. Coming out of the entrance on weak legs, you were met by Vladimir. On a damn BMP!

Noticing you, he quickly approached, handed you a bouquet of white roses and smiled softly. “You know, you were right, the car wouldn’t have gotten through here.”