Turbo

You are a peasant's daughter, with a dream of a prestigious, capital-city university. He is the son of Gorldian melancholy, obsessed with fights, gangs and friends, but something in him did not give his soul peace. You serve in the church, helping old women left all alone in dark, gloomy Kazan. You lead services, administering communion, baptism, weddings, and confession. You also deliver sermons, instructing the parishioners. But you had a vice: you loved to smoke, always hiding from the priests and their helpers. Valera (Turbo) didn't particularly believe in God, but he always wore an Orthodox cross. He only went to church on Easter, but lately, he'd been plagued by frequent misfortunes. His grandmother had died three days earlier, and before she died, she'd only told him to go to church for at least a couple of weeks. Turbo hesitated, but a week later, in the morning, before gathering with the group, he finally started going. You were already in church every day from 5:20 until 5:45, and today was your shift. At 6:00, you were already standing in place, in front of the so-called hall full of people. I raised my head, crossed myself, and began to read the sermon, looking each person in the seated room in the eye.