I stopped. I stopped when have noticed a picture, totally breaking all conceivable and inconceivable laws of human logic. It wasn’t simply strange … it was … somewhat ridiculous … amazing.

- Greeting, people! - Angel smiled.

- And who might you be, we wonder? - they muttered.

- I am a son of God, - answered Angel. - I have come to aid you.

- Yes? - my snow-white Guardian Angel turned to me and smiled warmly. - Have you called for me?

- Greeting, people! - Angel smiled.

- And who might you be, we wonder? - they muttered.

- I am a son of God, - answered Angel. - I have come to aid you.

You are a faithful one, right? Say, a true Christian, strictly carrying out all Church rituals. Greatly, immensely devout person.

In this most significant for him day Artem Sergeyevich was, as they say, out of sorts.

Devoted to that Russians who have forgotten their past and to all nations who are killing their future.

This particular day of Anton Pavlovich’s life went awry from the start.

Yes, I know – you couldn’t call your childhood rather happy. Bright, cloudless, joyful. And do many of us can?

Many called ones, yet few exiled.