Success was not long in coming. The aromas were different: now fuel oil, then rotten potatoes, then stale air, and finally, the barely perceptible smell of gasoline. The roofing material on this garage was laid in several layers, so it did not come off, but broke off in small pieces. Finally, I got to the boards and, prying them with the sharp side of the spray can, began to tear them off one by one. The huge nails with which the boards were nailed creaked disgustingly and very loudly when I tore them out. I didn’t figure out how to make this process quieter, so I decided to just do it quickly.
Finally, after sweating a lot and finishing my work, I was able to look inside the garage. The light came through cracks under the doors and a hole in the ceiling, so I found the source of the smell right away.
The garage was exemplary: a tool hanging on the walls, shelves with various junk – everything was laid out very neatly and in its place, betraying a perfectionist in its owner. Only a hefty red canister of forty liters stood out from the overall picture, standing in the middle of the garage closer to the back wall. The lock latch was clearly visible on the garage door – this indicated that the lock could be opened from the inside without a key. I took off the backpack and, unfastening the lower straps, carefully lowered it down. Then, squeezing through the hole, I hung on my hands for a while, trying to make out the place where I would have to land, and jumped down.
Sweating from breaking the roof under the hot sun, the garage greeted me with pleasant coolness and shade. There was no time to enjoy this feeling, but I could not refuse myself and sat down on the frame of the backpack, removing my wet and fairly grown hair over the past two months from my forehead.
“It must be great to have such a garage,” I thought, “you can pick yourself in the car.” Something, and I loved this since childhood. Unfortunately, I didn't have my own garage. I serviced the car at the service station and, each time taking it away after repair, I found some minor flaws. At least, it seemed to me that it was every time: something was under-tightened, then over-tightened, then the body was smeared with dirty gloves, and so on. And here he drove the car and his own head, and everything you need is always at hand.