About the book: year / “We are both stokers and carpenters...” If there is a place called Strelka, then the people who live in that place are called switchmen or sighters. And that's what they called me. What are you looking at, beauty? Are you waiting for me to tell you how I built a city in one night? Yeah, and the crystal bridge to the city of Paris itself. Fucked, fucked... “the guns are firing from the pier - the ships are ordered to land”... Lord, how many fairy tales about me, about my city, are circulating throughout Rus'! And that, by the will of the Mother of God, in one night an empty city emerged from the earth, large and magnificently decorated, and that it flew in a cloud and in this place rained down houses and churches... This is nonsense, girl. We ourselves, with these hands... And with many more, and more skillfully, better than these - we pulled it out of the ground, sculpted it, erected it and elevated it. People make the place beautiful. My people. How? But anyway. And good prayer, and bad words, and intelligence, and stupidity, and grief with sadness and laughter with joy... There was a lot of stupidity of all kinds. Nowadays we bake cities like pies. And in those days... everything was for the first time. Do you remember your first time? Look, it's turned pink. Now think about it - a hundred men at once... Well, well, don’t be offended. Back then... I was also in trouble. Laughter - right up to hiccups. And what’s funny: my fears were, for the most part, empty, and my hopes were increasingly false. Plans, calculations... in vain. And here is the city of Vsevolozhsk, large and ornate!