What else am I going to do there?

One day I went with my uncle to a picture writer's cottage, it was winter and cold. We went there, they (my uncle and the painter) were celebrating something, having fun, and I - I was fourteen, maybe fifteen at the time - didn't know what to do and at that time I was already smoking, well, dabbling in cigarettes, to say the least.

And so, I wanted to smoke, and I thought - I'll tell them that I'll go for a walk. So I went out behind the station, had a smoke, and thought, "What else am I going to do there?" I decided to do something, and I've always liked to tidy up, kind of a perfectionist. I found a shovel and decided to clear the road from the cottage to the bathhouse of snow.

I started shoveling, cleaned about a meter of the area, two, three, four, I turned around and saw them standing in the window of the house. I remember the outline of one of the men very well: an older man in his fifties, wearing a white turtleneck and black jeans, and the other was dressed in something black, I don't remember anymore. And one of them waved at me.

Well, I did not pay attention to this: suddenly they are discussing what good I did, that I myself have decided to clean the path from the snow. So I finished cleaning it, went inside and asked my uncle and the artist: "Why were you waving at me? They answered question after question, "What do you mean we waved at you?"

And so after I noticed their clothes, I was ***ing, because I looked: nobody was wearing a white turtleneck, and there were hardly any black clothes at all, only if they were wearing pants. The painter was wearing a light T-shirt, and my uncle was wearing an orange sweatshirt. I still don't understand what happened or who the people in the window were.