Payback One day, as I was walking home, I saw a man lying in a pool of blood by the entrance to the building. I went over and checked — he seemed to be alive. I asked if I could help in any way. At that moment, a local guy named Uncle Sasha was standing literally five meters away from us with his drinking buddies. “He’ll be fine, they’re already on their way,” he said quite calmly. “How did this happen?”- I asked. “Oh, nothing much, the wife’s dad came with a crowbar, hit him on the head, and threw him out of the window.” This isn’t the first time I’ve come across something like this, and it always leaves a deep impression. It’s like a person is dying right before your eyes, and yet everyone around is calmly going about their usual business — like those guys “drinking beer by the entrance” — no one wants to get involved. And, to be honest, I don’t want to either. Although, in a perfect world, we could have gotten him out of the way, bandaged him up, and stopped the bleeding. On the other hand, this character was a real nuisance to all the neighbors in the communal apartment: he often got drunk and brutally beat his wife. Now he’s paying the price for it all, it seems.