little sasha was born. and there, just a month later, his father died. in malmyzha, the building of the hospital was preserved, where kalyaginhe house where his family lived, the house where the institute of his parents worked in the evacuation. and my father's grave. growing up in a jewish family for a boy is a special charm and a special burden. all love is really only connected and addressed only to him to this boy remark discussion. too much, love too much and at the same time time. they let you go and you are somehow free to be alone and you belong to yourself, that is, all the time such hot cold and hot cold, mostly hot and love was crazy. my god, how i lied to my mother as a child. he left. from home or marmots with a violin i studied at a music school in the violin class. i went to the circus or to the cinema, and my mother put such a little white piece of paper in the case, that is, well, to check if the piece of paper fell out, which means that i was engaged in opening the case , if she remained in place. mother cried, listening to how i lied with inspiration. cake drunk bring slippers. and now, for 24 years, alexa