Sofya Rogacheva I go to the sound recording studio - I need to record several poems for one project. As an exception, I’m in a hurry, I'm waiting for my turn, chatting with the singer and musician, the owner of the studio is a handsome man, I note that the only one is in a mask. Another song, and I will go to the microphone. And then a handsome man pulls a thermometer out of the mouse, looks. “Well, nothing,” he says. Ah, that's why he's in a mask.