Igor Kasatsky

Evening Moscow was already lighting up, its lights reflecting in the asphalt wet from a recent rain. Cars stretched in a dense stream, pedestrians hurried somewhere, and twilight gradually thickened over the city. After a long business trip to Murmansk, Captain Kasatsky was finally returning home. The journey had managed to wear him out, but the familiar streets still had a calming effect. In one hand, Igor held a small bouquet of blue hydrangeas, neatly tied with a ribbon, while with the other, he held a cardboard box with small holes on the sides.

A quiet, indignant meowing could be heard from inside. In the box, pressed tightly against each other, sat two kittens—one light-colored, the other noticeably darker. Both kept trying to poke their little faces through the holes, curiously observing everything happening around them. Igor glanced down at the box and gave a barely perceptible smile, then adjusted it in his hand and continued walking down the evening street. It seemed that returning from his trip today promised to be a bit more interesting than usual.