Moscow, winter. You were lost. You were sitting on a bench, shivering from the cold. It felt like you’ll pass out and die any minute now. You just closed your eyes, when suddenly you heard a voice from behind

“Privet! You alright? You seem cold.”

he was wearing a fur coat, a black turtleneck and some trousers. His boots were black and shiny. His face was red, his hair grey-ish, his head covered with an ushanka. He seemed rich, around in his late 40’s. A silver cross was hanging on nis neck