To keep myself busy, I decided to iron all the clothes that were wrinkled in my bags, but there was no ironing board in the house, so I ironed them on my bed without turning on the light. It took me about three hours, but even then , the city was still asleep.

I watched the hands of the clock eagerly, waiting to see if it would show six o'clock in the morning: my plan was to take my Walkman and jog through the waking town.

Finally, the light of the lanterns faded against the misty English dawn.

«At last! What boredom awaits me at night!» – I thought as I changed into linen shorts and T-shirt. In the hallway I quickly put on my sneakers, plugged my headphones into my ears, turned on my Walkman, walked out of the house, closed the door, went down the stairs and slowly ran along the beautiful street paved with big stones, meeting no one on my way, as if there were no people in this city at all.

The English morning even smelt different: something unfamiliar, it was different from home, and I felt acutely pleased with myself.

I ran down the street, smiling and listening to my favourite tunes playing in my headphones.

Soon I came across the first person of the morning, an elderly man walking his dachshund in one of the parks: the dog followed him lazily and sleepily, lolling from one paw to the other. Following the man, I met two girls running towards me and jogging too.

«How cool it must be to run and chat with a friend!» – I thought to myself as I followed them with my gaze.

Slowly the city came alive: people were coming out of their houses, saying hello, waving, nodding, going somewhere. Cafes were opening (I knew that shops in Oxford didn't open before ten o'clock), and more and more cars and cyclists were appearing on the roads.

The morning was in full swing.

Looking at my watch, I realised I'd been running for an hour and a half without a break, so I stopped and deliberately breathed heavily, like people do after a run. Looking around, I realised that I was in a strange place, with no money, and I had to run back for an hour and a half to get home. But there was nothing to do: I turned round and ran home, luckily I had an excellent memory. I never had much desire to run in the morning, but this morning's run through the waking city was so pleasant that I made a promise to myself to do it every morning in any weather.

I got home by nine o'clock, ran up the stairs to the door, took the key out of my shorts pocket and started to open the door, but the key stubbornly refused to go through the lock.

«What is this nonsense? I guess I'll have to change the lock!» – I thought grudgingly, trying hopelessly to defeat it, and trying so hard that I bent the key. – Well, wonderful! And the morning was so pleasant!»

I sat down pensively on the step, and suddenly I heard the creak of the lock turning: it sounded so loud that it could be heard even through the music.

It made me jump to my feet, hurriedly removing my headphones and staring at the door.

Someone there in the house was opening the door from the other side!

Suddenly the door swung wide open, almost hitting me, and a thin black-haired girl with a short guyish haircut and a nose piercing appeared in front of me.

– Hi, and you must be Marsha? – she asked me in English, in a pleasant, slightly high voice.

I was taken aback.

«What the hell is that?» – went through my head.

– Misha » I corrected. – And who are you, I beg your pardon?

– I'm Mary Smith, the lady of the house, but don't worry, I won't take too much space.

«What is she talking about? Is she going to live here? With me?» – I frowned.

– 'But I rented your house on the condition that I would live completely alone,' I said slyly: in fact, the house was rented by Maria, and I didn't know on what terms. But I knew for a fact that my sister would never let me live in the same house with a man!

– Yes, I know, but I hope you'll get into my position» Mary said in an apologetic tone. – Oh, come in, please!

I walked into the house and took off my sneakers. My morning was ruined.

We walked into the living room.

– Where have you been? – The girl asked me.

– Running around» I answered briefly and sat down on the wide brown couch.

– Really? You're not sweating at all.

«It's Harry's sister. Just as tedious as he is!» – I thought grudgingly.

– It's just that I'm a professional runner» I lied, and only now did I realise the horror of my situation: she's going to live here? No, that's impossible! How would I hide my strange habits from her? What would she say about a fridge full of blood?