The phone trills tore at my mind, insistently pulling me out of my dream and into reality. Cursing, and opening only my left eye, I slid from the bed to the floor and, getting up from my knees, padded barefoot into the corridor.
After all, the subversive actions of the imperialist intelligence services of the West have, in their essence, different manifestations. And I am absolutely convinced that the disappearance of my Slippers every morning can have no other explanation than the machinations of Western intelligence services. Even if the Slippers are then found on the other side of the bed, then this is not for nothing... After all, someone rearranges them at night! And sneak into our apartment by opening five(!) solid castles left over from pre-war times are not an easy task. Plus a ho
