5/8 : radio

Apartment 140, ninth floor. Yegor stuck his large shaved head out of the bedroom window. Low in the night sky, the lights of a plane were gliding by, and soon the familiar hum of jet engines would catch up. Yegor wished he could be there on board right now. And not flying to some far away place, but coming home. Fidgeting in a not-so-comfortable seat, waiting for the landing, and looking out of the window at the familiar concrete high-rises on the outskirts of the city, the occasional cars on the roads, and the streetlights casting a soft yellow glow on the empty yards and streets. Then there would be the taxi ride with an overly chatty driver, the familiar clank of the key in the door lock, and a home that feels and smells a little different after a long absence. Like putting on a winter coat for the first time in a year. And when the floor in the living room creaks underfoot, as it always does, there will be a sudden, special kind of comfort — just like the feeling when you turn on the Sasha Foam mix for 5/8: radio.