told me. "But Sleepy charming," according to friends, "quieter Than Minneapolis" for the Lonely Planet guide . They were not exaggerating. St Paul was empty, non-metaphorical meaning of the word.
Feeling a bit 'like the protagonist of one of those movies in which nuclear war has destroyed all other forms of life except the hero and some stray dog, I wander among the five skyscrapers of Downtown. There is' no. At the entrance of a fast food restaurant, I find a warning: NO SMOKING WITHIN 25 FEET OF THIS NOTICE. Begin to formulate a theory: all smokers of St Paul will be gone out of town 'with cigarettes, and non-smokers have chased them to post other notices in the woods and along the River. I headed to the Mississippi.
Almost immediately I see a figure dressed in yellow stops at the corner of 4th and Wabasha Street. I go up and as soon as you notice of my presence, the figure began to shout: "Sir, can you spare a moment for human rights? Human Rights! HUMAN RIGHTS!"
It 's a girl, among other things human, but to me the question naturally arises: "What humans?" Assuming (wrongly) that my question is rhetorical, the girl begins to explain that a member of Amnesty International and asked me if I would like to contribute $ 60 per month to the fund for disappeared of Minnesota. He thought for a moment and then decided to disappear too.
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