About the book: 2022 / I was returning home from my grandmother. The rain hit the children's umbrella. I was about eight years old... But I still remember autumn, disgusting raindrops, light-colored tights - then they splashed above the knees, the pursuer. He always kept his distance. Further than ten steps, further than the words, the laughter that could come from him or from me. That evening I heard breathing too close.