He was angry. No, he was furious, which, no matter how much he tried to hide, still showed up on his face, otherwise how to explain the fact that passers-by on the street shied away from him? These useless people, clogged with their pitiful problems, instinctively let him pass, moving away, trying not to accidentally hurt even in the crowd. Where it seemed an unprecedented luxury to allow yourself to be yourself. But this herd, probably, it felt the danger emanating from him. In those rare moments when he allowed her to spill into their boring, measured everyday life.

He chuckled, thinking that it wasn't often that he could be...