Unsuccessfully trying to open a pack of "Vogue Aroma" with frozen fingers, Katya could not restrain herself:- Dima, I'll be in time if you don't call every minute! Crap! I could have called a taxi.The iPhone flew into her purse, and Katya finally fished out a thin cigarette. About the taxi, of course, she said rashly. Lately, taxis have become dangerous, and she can do without them, calmly taking the subway in fifteen minutes. Unlike Dima, Katya has lived all her life a stone's throw from the metro, and right up to the second she knew at what time she had to go through the glass doors in order to catch the last train leaving Novokosino without running around on the escalators.Now she has about five minutes left, which she will spend on a smoke break. She just needs a good dose of nicotine. Firstly, she must come to her senses after a heavy quarrel with her mother, and secondly, Katya wanted to take a last look at the place where twenty years of her life had passed.Now a new, much

Dasha is a thin, petite twenty-three-year-old girl with a charming face that radiates cold beauty and eyes the color of ice. These are not lenses, as many people think. Her eyes are really so light that they seem like a pair of ice floes. The same color can be seen under the feet of the frozen Lake Peipsi. Dasha never smiles. All Dasha's acquaintances know about this, but few people know that this is not true. As an adult, Dasha smiled three times, and three different people happened to witness it. Two of them were young men of seventeen and twenty-nine. Both at the same moment fell in love with Dasha. The third witness of her smile was the forty-two-year-old photographer Bernard Bertin, who at that moment lowered the camera, tilted his head to one side and silently watched until his assistant called him twice.It is not known why this girl smiled so rarely, but when she did, the cold beauty seemed to begin to melt, transforming into something so divine that the tongue did not dare to

- I'm his girlfriend, what can not be seen if we are at the same table ?!Kharitonov again hit the guy on the table. Not so crushing this time.“If you intervene again, I’ll hammer until everything instead of sauce is splashed with brains.” - Kharitonov turned a menacing face to the guy. - Well, who is she to you?- One thing ... a group, - the guy said, releasing bloody saliva.- She says a friend, and you are a classmate ... Not a girl, then?The guy shook his head.“I see, now tell me why she,” Kharitonov pointed at the ugly girl with his finger, “is standing up for you.”The guy was silent. Everyone was silent.Kharitonov pulled out a plastic fork from a plate of lettuce splattered with blood and broke it off with his big, sausage-sized finger. The remaining pointed handle was clenched in a powerful fist, the fist was placed on the bloody stain on the table.Did you get the hint?The guy nodded.Why is she standing up for you?The guy looked at the ugly girl.“She… she likes me.T

inevitable predestination.Victor reread the phrase in a square with an arrow pointing three cells to the right. How simple. It is strange that the person who solved almost the entire scanword did not write this word in three cells. Moreover, in the middle there was already an “o”, formed by an intersection with a four-letter word, conceived as “a precious stone and a male nuisance”.Victor chuckled, crossed his legs and again began to look at the girl. Maybe the Wi-Fi was up, or maybe she was just looking at the pictures, but her beautiful, focused face again shone with the pale light of the display.Unexpectedly, the aesthetic contemplation of almost absolute harmony was broken by a bow-legged bearish figure. The bear-man appeared in Victor's field of vision, and blocked all the space in front of his eyes, including, of course, the girl.The man grabbed the handrail with his paws, and with the dexterity of an animal, sat down next to the girl. Apparently it was some kind of instinct

- Who? - Asked the brunette.The guy shrugged.What about in the other cars?“I saw someone next door. There seemed to be a person there.“I think there was a bum sleeping there.”- If the train does go, it will not be very soon.- Some garbage and the phone does not work. Does everyone have it?- It does not work for me.- The network does not catch.Listening to conversations in the dark, Pustovalov climbed into the control cabin, lit the floor with a flashlight. There was no subject. A pack of Winstons had also shifted and now lay against the far wall - apparently the "goal" scattered everything around when he stared at his display, but did not notice the most necessary thing.Pushing back his chair, he began to carefully examine the floor and soon found what he was looking for. The trihedral key lay under the control unit near the partition. Pustovalov picked it up, inserted it into the well, and opened the inner door.- Come here! - He said to the shadows in the car.- Praise the