Жить на первом этаже круто. Недавно мы с...

Living on the first floor is cool. Recently, Dani and I sat and listened to the snow falling from the roof. Then there was a warming and it is likely that the snow fell off in large pieces and flew down. However, the blows seemed suspicious to me.

I pulled back the curtains and saw that under the window there was a weighty printout of papers, a scribbled sheet of A4, a tiny box (it looks like it was from a mobile phone), and heavy objects like books continued to fall on top. It is clear that one cannot but imagine any story, having witnessed this. Maybe this wife kicks her husband out for treason? No, but if this is a maniac who came to the most beautiful blonde from above and throws her things away? Or does that cute grandmother-athlete kill her father-in-law to take possession of her living space?

In short, we went outside and found that the printout is the book “Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep” in English, the sheet is a checklist in the student’s mathematics (the name was not disclosed in the interests of good neighborliness) with a triple, and the box is a package for vape, the vape itself was lying nearby in the snow, and nearby various books - mostly science fiction. It was inconvenient that the very schoolboy, whose mother, probably, threw it all away, angry because of the three, caught me looking at all this.

I pretended that I was just walking, and not sticking my nose in other people's affairs, then the schoolboy bashfully picked up his vape and retired. Of course, I also left so that he could return and pick up everything else. Then I met his mother at the door - such an intelligent woman in a hat, and so you can’t say that things are thrown from the window at night. I'm sorry for the boy.

And today I was sitting in the headphones and watching an extremely tiring movie, when suddenly at six in the morning there was someone knocking loudly on the window of the first floor (we have no bars). The curtains are tightly closed; I, of course, am ready to escape from the apartment. Want to rob? Drug addicts? Homeless people from the Paveletsky station? A classmate with whom I did not go on a date, got out of prison and wants to kill? Mutants from the Moskva River crave blood? Who the hell goes to -25, on holidays, in the back parking lot next to the school stadium, which is covered with snow in winter and is not used by anyone?

As you understand, I have quite a few character traits that can be attributed to the alarmingly suspicious type. Outside the window, they continue to knock more and more persistently. When Dania finally reached the window (I, of course, was obliged to hold it and advise me not to go there without an ax, and since we don’t have it, it’s better to just wait in the corner when this will end, and then suddenly the forces of evil have awakened, etc. ., etc.), everyone has already left there, leaving only traces in the snow.

Sherlock and I, that is, Daney, suggested that the tracks belong to one person, most likely a woman. A bizarre handprint on the windowsill did not escape my attention either, it seems that our mysterious guest was a little low, and she had to grab the windowsill to pull herself up and knock on the window. I called her "clawed woman."

I also remembered that not so long ago my grandmother had been knocking on my window, who had been sitting all day at the porch in a plastic chair and feeding pigeons. She recently knocked on a window, showing an empty bottle, and asked to pour water for pigeons. I brought all the information I had together and it turned out that, most likely, that crazy nightmare was that crazy grandmother. Sherlock-Dania congratulated me and said that the “crazy old woman case” is closed.
#adventures_people_which_nothing_not_ left_on_an_counter