В каждом молчании своя истерика

Peterburg. Istorii͡a odnoĭ druzhby, dvukh predatelʹstv, trëkh zhelaniĭ i chetyrëkh uglov, gde mechet ikru li͡ubovʹ. Vse nachalosʹ s togo, chto ona sidela pered nim, perelistyvai͡a svoi beskonechnye nogi, a on, eshchë ni razu ne chitavshiĭ takikh interesnykh knig, ne znal, s kakoĭ stranit͡sy nachalsi͡a ėtot roman. Roman, v kotorom druzhba, vyderzhannai͡a godami v sosude vzaimoponimanii͡a, medlenno opletalasʹ gibkoĭ lozoĭ li͡ubvi do tekh por, poka steklo ne tresnulo, i iznutri ne bryznula gori͡achai͡a krovʹ mesti i nenavisti.

Petersburg. The story of one friendship, two betrayals, three desires and four corners where love spawns. It all started with the fact that she was sitting in front of him, turning over her endless legs, and he, who had never read such interesting books, did not know from which page this novel began. A novel in which friendship, sustained for years in a vessel of mutual understanding, was slowly entwined with a flexible vine of love until the glass cracked and hot blood of revenge and hatred splashed from inside.