He hid everything behind the couch, covered himself up with a blanket (he had slept on the unmade bed without sheets) — and pretended to be asleep. He knew that Mother would peep in about two minutes later to check whether he was at home. He was at home, lying down with a heavy, dreadfully pounding head.
Damn, he hadn’t brushed his teeth. He swished around his rotten saliva, spat onto the heating unit — it would dry.
Mother looked in — he was lying under the blanket but with his eyes open: if he closed them, he’d get the spins.
The door closed softly.
Mother looked in for a few seconds longer than usual, Sasha noticed. She must be concerned about the money, where I got it from… I ought to tell her some sort of a lie.
Sasha leaned over the back of the couch, snapped up the open bottle
