Bird droppings fell on shoulders like white snow. And time goes by, and Oleg is worried, alone this evening. There he stands - tall, thin, trying to be stern.

"Oleg, let me stay."

He is still silent, casting an apathetic glance to the side, as if he had not heard anything that was said. His constant depressed state, dependence on pills, malnutrition were no longer within any limits, but he did nothing about it. You can no longer stand it and scream almost in his ear:

"And I'm crying, Oleg, I'm crying!"

Changing from a walk to a run, you feel how tears have eaten away at your cheeks. You have changed, but not Oleg - he is just as thin, just as tall. Past the dogs hidden in the shadows, past the half-empty garbage cans, past himself, but halfway there, he turned and followed you.

In the left pocket, breakfast for two is buried. In the right pocket, the smell of your palms. In the left eye, a speck of dust means nothing. But only in the right eye, something even itches.

Snow falls on his hair. He wants to go home. He really wants to.