We ran around school like crazy. A change, a happy moment of almost resolved madness, when you can throw off the stupor incubated in physics-algebras. Another teacher, caught in this tsunami, tried to stick to the windowsill as soon as possible and wait out the elements there. Rosa Semyonovna always walked along the corridor, without turning, without risking anything. Neither the authority of the teacher, nor the cleanliness of the shoes. She walked slowly, leaning on a cane, limping.