Three failed marriages and disappointment in love behind me—plus my young years and belief in personal happiness. By the time I reached thirty with a little tail, my only advantages were a separate apartment and a job near my home. A failure!—someone might say that, and they might not even be wrong. Because even in the little things, I don’t get lucky. What could I allow myself in the pre-holiday bustle—some small shopping? I might have dreamed about a new bag for half a year. And what, give it to some impudent girl? Not a chance! If you grab a titmouse by the tail, you’ll reach the crane too. Even if you have to go after it into another world.