We are sitting under the roof, Andryusha is again scribbling something in concentration on his blog, the rain is noisy on the metal tiles no worse than the Geart national drummer ensemble. I’m honestly trying to untangle my wet beard, which is curled like a small demon - after all, Dverg hair is not adapted to a sharp increase in humidity in the air; the Kiyatland neighbor is torturing his ocarina, blowing something like “too, too-doo-doo, too, too-doo-too, too-doo-doo, too-do-too-too-too,” honestly trying to look in his checkered plaid like one of his heroic Kiyatland ancestors, about whom he buzzed the ears of everyone who was unlucky enough to be paired with him... The only thing that gets in the way is that the main colors of the blanket are pink and light green.

The tea is strongly brewed, black as Andryusha’s thoughts about bacon at three in the morning, burns his hands even through the tin sides of the mug. Take a sip - the juniper-smelling heat will spread through your nerves and veins, warming your body and soul - the old recipe of the Rushkaronzavas does not misfire. At first the guys were suspicious, but now they can’t be pulled away by the ears - a few spoons of the family tincture in a teapot turns a simple drink into a healing elixir worthy of the Ancestress herself.

In a day or two, everything will return to normal: the scorching sun, the muscles aching pleasantly in the evening and the shovel shaft polished by the palms in the hands.

In the meantime, you can drink tea and listen to the rain.