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I quickly climb inside, slam it shut, and look around the absolutely deserted street with disbelief for a while. This part of St. Petersburg is not the most comfortable place for a cultural walk, but I don’t know what.

Only after making sure no one has seen me, I take off my cap with some relief and look at the young man behind the wheel. As usual, he hands me a large glass of americano with milk. I immediately take a sip of the still-hot coffee, lean my head back, and close my eyes. I don’t like to “languish” like this, because as soon as I allow my body to relax, fatigue covers my head, reminding me that even my restless inner resource is not endless. Nor is it eternal. And in this age of high technology, diluted with all sorts of lunar stuff, the elixir of youth prolongation has not yet been invented. And let it be, with the elixir, decent energy drinks that do not kill the liver and nervous system – and those do not.

In the silence of the cabin I hear a deep sigh through my nose, quickly swallow a new cup of coffee and squint at the guy behind the wheel.