Truly hot summer day. You are lying in your small creaky bed on the second floor of the country house, trying to escape from the midday heat. It smells like mom's vegetable soup and old wood. Dust particles flying in the rays of the sun, breaking through the curtains. Right now, more than anything in the world, you want to dive into water, no matter where: maybe in the fire pond, where Sanyok severely cut his leg with a bottle bottom last year, or even in the old bathtub filled with rainwater, standing in the middle of the garden for absolutely no reason, which tadpoles swim in. From the street you can hear the engine noise of a neighbor's scooter, the sound of an electric saw and enchanting music that you will unmistakably recognize decades later in the Orchid mix for 5/8: radio
