"Вскоре после своего изгнания на крыши Дымки Ардишта...

"Soon after their exile on the roofs of Dymka, Ardisht realized that they were about to run out of matches and there was nothing to light their adored cigarettes on. They kept a strict chalk record on the wall of the longest chimney. Five hundred. The next day - three hundred. The next day - They set a quota, burned every match down to the fingers of the striking one, trying to light at least thirty cigarettes from it. When there were no more than twenty matches, lighting became a ritual. The tenth woman cried. Nine. Eight. The seventh clan leader accidentally dropped from the roof and flew down after it, without experiencing shame. Six. Five. The inevitable was coming. The fourth match was blowed by a breeze - a gross oversight of the new clan leader, who also flew down and crashed to death, though not in his own way. Three: Without them, we’ll end. Two: This cannot continue any longer. ”And then, in a moment of deepest despair, a stupendous thought came to the child’s head, strangely enough: it’s just necessary to arrange so that someone constantly smoked. After all, you can light a cigarette from another cigarette. While one is smoking, there is always hope for the next. At the tip of the shimmering ashes is the seed of continuity! Duty schedules were developed: incumbent duty, morning respite, lunch break, midday and afternoon fasts, twilight outfit, midnight vigil. At least one cigarette has always lit the sky - a candle of hope. "Excerpt from the book" Full Illumination "Jonathan Safran Foer