Kazhdyj chelovek v mire chego-to zhdet. Zhdet lifta, ochered' v magazine, avtobusa, bogatstva, vyzdorovleniya, druga, nastoyashhuju ljubov', ispolneniya zhelaniya. I chasto ljudi umirajut, tak i ne dozhdavshis'. A kto-to poluchaet svoe, no ne dorozhit, i bezdushno teryaet. I mozhet jeto zadumano svyshe, a mozhet, i net, mozhet, my sami vse portim, potomu chto so vremenem perestaem cenit', a mozhet, my hotim ne togo. Nikto ne znaet otveta, no kazhduju minutu v mire kto-to teryaet, a kto-to obretaet.