Mikhail Alexandrovich opened his eyes with an effort. During the night his apartment became so cold that his face felt like a heavy ice mask. The smell of rain and rotting leaves wafted into the bedroom from the open window.
Everything inside Mikhail Alexandrovich crumpled because of the mere thought that he would have to get out of bed in all this September nightmare. He imagined his cold hands, puddle-stained boots, a terribly prickly sweater, and smoking breaks under the drizzle. It was too much.
The only thing that gave Mikhail Alexandrovich strength to finally pull his shaking pale body out from the blanket was not the prospect of being under boiling water in the shower, not a cup of hot instant coffee, and not even a trip to Tunisian Sousse bought for October. It was the 200th anniversary mix from 5/8: radio, recorded by Sasha Shuliko, warming like the July sun
