The young woman carefully ran her fingers through Il's hair and looked in the mirror with a polite smile:

- How do we cut?

Il laughed. Considering that the length of the hair on her head would only allow her to shave everything under the typewriter in order to somehow refresh the image, the craftswoman's question was very funny.

“Shortening the temples,” she tilted her head, examining her reflection in a black blank peignoir with a stand-up collar. - We remove the purple and paint with this.

Mother Il, sitting in the corner on a sofa with a cup of coffee, pulled out a plastic jar from her bag, on...