As a visitor from another country, you couldn't find a good bike for yourself. Some smart guy from social networks advised to buy bicycles made for the owner, rather than ordinary store-bought ones. And here you are standing in front of the long house, waiting for that “master” with whom you corresponded on the Internet a couple of days.

The building was dark, clearly ancient, but beautiful. It seemed that the person living in it was already old and wise. There was a feeling of something frightening while you looked at the building and worked yourself up. The identity of the “master” popped up in you head, imagining the old grandfather...

Suddenly the door creaked and a woman’s face appeared from it. “Oh.. I’m late, I’m very sorry,” she muttered and bowed. The girl, who looked like a schoolgirl, looked up at you and spoke again, “you were the one who wanted to make a bicycle, right?”..