today konstantin pastukhov, 42 years old, a businessman, was lucky, and pay attention to the marks ofon on his neck, who did this runner run across the path of, no one, it was he himself, he ran across himself, and a murderer. yes, yes, halahu, you saw this devilish weapon, they twirl it on whatever you want, i saw this, oh, lenka, it’s better not to tell you, but this one decided to twirl it around the neck and... so it got screwed, but where is it? igor khalakhup? rolled away? is it round? yes, it’s logical, or is this all me? come on, the wind is cold, i decided to wear the scarf tighter wrap my neck, i’m all wrapped up, where’s the scarf? rolled away? here are the kites, goodbye, and what and what? what, what, elena nikolaevna, kites don’t leave slinds, he was flying a weird kite. on a long, long rope, everything comes together, in general, no matter how much the rope twists, and the end is always in gnezdelov’s hands, just like that, spectacular, beautiful in this park in the fall, yeah, maximov and i ran here in the mornings, yes you remember even in a past life, well, let the p