How nice the wind wasn’t blowing. As if recently Baku wind has also changed, as if it felt hatred to everybody… While driving in the bus the wind brings the dust of newly built buildings and passengers in the bus are covered with dust. As if the wind was saying to people why they hide themselves in the buildings built in disorder. Do you deceive me or yourselves? The wind didn’t let the persons like Masud to feel comfortable even in the buses. As if it asked them whether they considered themselves so smart. Maybe the drivers who stopped hectically even in narrow streets or the passengers who reached out their hands to stop the buses act rightly? May be you live your lives same way you get into buses? My God! The wind was speaking to him so roughly…

He had a fit of coughing; he sat down on the ground. When he felt a bit better he stood up, but he was scared. By the other side of trash cans two persons dressed in shreds and tatters were rummaging sweepings of food, empty bottles and put them into their sacs. His started coughing again. The two persons heard the sounds of his coughing stopped rummaging and looked at him. The older one nudged his friend and took steps back from the trash can. His friend understood nothing, and stopped rummaging, went back. At any case they were homeless. The homeless vagrants who lived in the account of sweepings of food they gathered from the trash cans. Their faces looked bluish. They even had traces resembling the color of moldy bread.

Suddenly the older vagrant said without moving:

– How do you do, mister Masud? Do you need anything? We are leaving now, we shan’t return here anymore.

He was surprised seeing that the old vagrant knew him. – Do you know me?

The old vagrant had a puzzled look, he combed his dirty hair with his hand, said: – Well, when we came here yesterday, – he showed the second floor, a woman shouted at us: – “What are you doing there? We can hardly sit at home because of the stink”. You were passing near by. She pointed at you and said: – “See, mister Masud is coming. He is a policeman. I will tell him and he will take you away”. Mister Masud, we left this place yesterday. Today we decided to come here for the last time until we find some new litter-boxes. Now we are leaving.

He didn’t know what to say to them. He looked towards the porch and window of the second floor where as the old vagrant told him the woman lived.

He turned to that vagrant and said: – That woman is mistaken. I am not a policeman anymore. I have retired. The old vagrant made a circle around the litter-boxes and ran towards the back of the building with electric generator. He brought a chair from there; without doubt he got it from the litter-boxes. – “Sit down, mister Masud! Don’t stand on feet!” Then he looked at his younger pal. – Let’s go, the woman from the second floor will shout at us. We must leave this place. Mister Masud, we are at your service. We won’t come here anymore. My name is Huseyn, his name is Fateh, he is Tatar” – he said and was going to leave.

The captain breathed deeply. His heart wasn’t beating fast as it did awhile ago. He felt hale and stood up. He felt better.

–Where are you headed now? – He asked Huseyn.

–Mister Masud, today we have gathered only a few bottles. We can’t buy even a small bottle of vodka. We shall see what the day has prepared for us after this

– He said

–Okay, leave the bag in your hand, and follow me. – He leaned the chair on the acacia tree. – Let the chair remain in here, let’s go.