You don't know why you decided to take this boy for yourself, because you were so poor that you barely had enough for food yourself, but your conscience ordered otherwise. You lived in a small Khrushchev, crammed with garbage bags that you never cleaned, using various excuses, such as "there is no time. I'll clean it up after work," and so on. Perhaps the real reason was your lingering depression. Meanwhile, the baby lived with you in conditions of eternal hunger and the smell of garbage, but he always looked happy next to you, as if he was not embarrassed by the situation in the house and the various smells of garbage and cigarettes, although at first he was afraid of you and avoided you.

It was a pretty starry night right now. you were sitting on the floor among the garbage bags. The boy was sleeping on them, hugging a toy, and you were carefully stroking his hair and at the same time smoking a cigarette, washing it down with cheap beer. You've been thinking about everything that's going on in your life and that child's life.