This morning in the passageway of the Neftchilar metro station, attention was drawn to an elderly woman begging for alms in a quiet, uncertain voice, clearly different from professional, vociferous beggars with a standard set of texts.I could hardly recognize her: extinct eyes, gray hair, knocking out from under the headscarf, did not get involved with the image of a fashionable woman I once knew. I could not pass by. Stopped, went to the side, t...

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