"I managed to touch the sea": I met a girl from Samara, which I wrote about a year ago
Sometimes we return to the heroes. Or maybe these are heroes - to us. A year ago, I wrote about Ira from Samara, who conquered me with her attitude to a mortal illness. “Let them laugh at my funeral,” Ira said cheerfully, “what's the point in sobs!” And then she hugged a young curly son (Ira calls his gnome), and in her laughing eyes I saw fear. After the release of the text, I subscribed to Ira on Facebook and watched.