Пропахшая бензином маршрутка везет сонную Ирину Валентиновну на...

A minibus smelling of gasoline is taking sleepy Irina Valentinovna to work. She works in an office, but her father's “to work” has firmly settled in her head and has now grown to her work. A man nearby in a warm waterproof jacket is desperately filling up his legitimate moments, exuding all the odors of cigarettes, a rotten scarf, wet jacket sleeves and, for some reason, perfume, hated by Irina Valentinovna. He has a mistress or something ... Irina Valentinovna sniffs disapprovingly at all the indiscriminate women of the world and buries herself in the wet glass for a dreary forty minutes.

The neighbor's cat is tearing the upholstery of the front door, tell this fool neighbor? What would she do, she can't keep track of her children, and she also got a cat. The youngest screams her every evening, gives concerts ... As a child, Irina Valentinovna put stools, covered them with a blanket and climbed up to sing in a plastic doll, like Sofia Rotaru. Mom was cursing! The singer called the unbroken one and looked with reproach. Eh, mom .. Well, maybe I would have fallen off that stool, but why just not finished? And in general, why is the singer - and not finished? Mom looks through the veil of years, it's not scary at all, and even seems to be comforting, but all this is so shaky, so long ago - and mother's reproaches, and a plastic doll, and songs.

The minibus drives in, and, wet in a jacket, flies into the shoulder with a woman's bag. He jumps up awake, looks at the girl with the bag and suddenly laughs - either at himself, or at this bag, or at all from his sleep he did not understand anything. Some blessed one .. He puts the girl in her place, talks about something. A thin girl's voice breaks unpleasantly through the familiar flow of thoughts and irritates Irina Valentinovna even more than her neighbor's wet sleeves. And why does she need this apartment in the north of the city? An hour and a half on the road, every day, just murder, and back again. They never went to the lakes without dad, she did not like the dacha ... she sold it that same year, as her parents died, since the neighbors licked their lips on their site for the last hundred years.

Sell ​​the apartment too. In fact, buy a little odnushka, and go to Spain for the difference! And to go to the north of Africa, drink Moroccan tea, as in the colorful guidebooks in the bookstore. And her property, and the deal is understandable. And the realtor Maria, to whom Irina Valentinovna comes to consult, seems to be a decent woman.

Irina Valentinovna makes tea while the stupid telephone on the table is torn apart, looks vengefully at her watch and basically does not pick up the phone until 8:59 is over to the strict 9:00. There should be order in everything, there is nothing here.

Yes, I would sell the apartment, move closer to work. Here you can sit quietly until retirement. And the difference is to look at camels and maybe a pyramid. Although these Arabs .. She shrugs her shoulders and for a while thinks whether the pyramids are worth the stories about the annoying Arabs? Or you can go to Italy, see cathedrals.

Trainee Sasha brought papers for checking, looks at the tab about Rome, winks knowingly:
Are you going to Italy, Irina Valentinovna? When?
What are you, Sasha, - Irina Valentinovna looks disapprovingly over her glasses - you must first think it over carefully!
Be sure to think it over first.