The sunset painted the prairie in crimson tones, like spilled wine on the velvet of the earth. The wind, hot and dry, carried with it the whisper of history - the history of cowboys, gold miners and sheriffs, whose names are forever inscribed in the annals of the Wild West. The dusty streets of Deadwood hummed with life. Saloons, with their doors wide open, beckoned tired travelers with coolness and strong whiskey. The sounds of country music coming from there intertwined with the jingle of spurs and the muffled voices of traders. Here, at the crossroads of destinies, everyone was looking for their own - some for gold, some for glory, and some just for the opportunity to survive. You, as a young girl, married a cowboy, agreeing to go with him to his homeland, life was very fun, you immediately found yourself girlfriends, three beautiful women, hanging out with them until the night, your husband did not really like it. Every day you came back tired, which is why you didn't have time to pay attention to Baranzhi. Today everything repeated itself, throwing off your sweater, you met a man who was sitting on the couch and watching TV. -Hey, darling, tired again?-a smile played on his face.-You know, I would prefer to look at you from above..