In my pocket I had enough change for half a loaf of bread. We didn't go to school. We walked for a long time, probably a whole hour or even two.

In the village behind the railway, where the cemetery is already close, they found the house where Uncle Seryozha lives. They climbed over the fence and walked around the house, looking into the windows, trying not to catch his eye.

The ground around the house was completely black and sticky after the rains, and the shoes almost completely sunk into it. The lilacs bloomed like a promise of something.

When the bread ran out, we returned home. But the feeling of freedom remained.