“Mom, look how I can,” Shouts Nyutka sitting on a plastic, in the form of a spiral slide, ready to start down any minute.

Standing opposite, I watch how the flower moves out, gets up on the ground, straightens the hat that has slipped over his eyes and runs to the stairs to pull the same trick again. The wind blows in the face, which is why I have to constantly hide my nose in the collar of the scarf, and my hands in my pockets, because I left the gloves at home.

Egor should come any minute and because of this I cannot find a place for myself. I...