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Three's a Crowd

Three's a Crowd

9 hrs. 23 min.
No, I’m not a “progressor.” And I can’t bring myself to call myself a “time-traveler” (a popadanets), even though I truly got into it! I ended up in my own childhood. For some incomprehensible coincidence, and an unknown cosmic whim. And I did it with the life experience of an adult—a reserve officer and a teacher of social disciplines. But changing the course of history, as a proper time-traveler is supposed to do, isn’t really my thing. And I don’t particularly want to…

Why? Everything is already wonderful! What could be better than a carefree childhood in the times of “developed socialism”? Kvas for three kopecks, ice cream for nine—and your childhood isn’t somewhere—it’s right there, on the warm shore of the Black Sea. You’d think—live and rejoice, use the incredible turn of the fatal wheel to the fullest. But no—what a pity! Adult brains don’t let a child enjoy all the charms of barefoot happiness. Because of them there’s both friendship with KGБ operative types and dangers several times a day, and sometimes the risk of being left without this clever but restless head.

And then there are other “time-travelers”! Brothers, you might say, in misfortune. In this easygoing “stagnation” swamp, it seems there is already a third unwanted guest from the future! And as you know, the third is always extra.

Or is it not?
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