November 23rd, early morning, Skana Village, 49 kilometers from the center of Plowsonia.
Filippov got up early. After washing up, he sat at the desk to have breakfast.
At this moment, he suddenly noticed the landlord's daughter peeking through the door crack.
Filippov picked up a pickle and waved it at the little girl: "Want some?"
The girl immediately nodded like a pecking chicken.
Filippov tore a page from his notebook, wrapped a few pickles and a piece of black rye bread, and handed it to the little girl.
The little girl devoured the food ravenously.
Filippov asked, "How long has it been since you last had bread?"
The little girl replied, "Several days."
At that moment, the little girl's grandmother pushed the door open. Speaking in Prosenese, she scolded the child a few times, pulled her behind, and then, trembling, apologized to Filippov: "She's just a child... doesn't know better..."
