“Hell Driver.” And I sighed and wrote that I wanted to be a poet. And all the others – astronauts.
And the teacher in mittens scolded me and Lyoshka,
because one of us had watched too many Western films and the other, god knows what she was daydreaming instead of living the life of her own country, and she praised the astronauts. Then Lyoshka said – said it to me, but everyone heard – “Let’s go” and we took off. And I sat beside him in a red motorcycle helmet, and in front of us lay all of life and New Year’s Day. Except that we lacked something for the top of the tree,