The young man, without getting up, has included filled with the beer
Mugs the sufferer-TV replacing hours, was pulled to a pencil,
Has opened a thick green writing-book and was accepted to work. The sun, a tall weeds,
The description of minute of despair - everything that was remembered in former notes, it
Has lowered. A hasty scribble streamed on a paper, and in the meantime in
Ragged little body of the TV the radio rumble expanded full of rustles and crashes,
On the screen zigzags were carried by, there was an image and speech was heard.
There was an advertising custom-made reporting, from what even with the most desperate
Boredom anybody did not look, except the customer, its relatives, friends and, if
Were available, subordinates. However the pencil as if itself has jumped out of fingers
The young man, which with razinutym a mouth scaredly vytarashchilsja on the screen.
- What it, my God, my God?! - he has plaintively spoken at last.