buckling, i remember well, a hot summer, and absolutely no one, it’s impossible to believe, empty wilhelm pieck streeterson, because if someone had come out, god forbid, i would have fallen into a stupor. i sat down on a bench, back then there used to be a bench at the entrance, and i had a movie camera with me, an eight-millimeter, amateur one, i took it out and began to look at it very carefully, to do something with it, as if pretending that i was busy with something serious, a serious concern, but at the same time i felt only one thing: this is avgig, i am here i am, well i was 15 then, probably, it was before admission, that is, you wanted to go to the directing department, i wanted. of course, to the directing department, but unlike sasha, unlike ivan, i failed miserably, and well, the crash was not so loud, because at first we took written exams, and i passed them, but when i had to sit down and talk to marlen artemovich khutseyev, look into his eyes , so huge behind the thick lenses of his glasses, then my tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth, and i failed, many years later i told this the sto