/ The authors / Writing in the night
The graduates' meeting was held in a three-story gray building of a faded red brick over time. I went through the creaking, rusty gates and stopped to look at the panorama of my own school. Yes, there have been eleven shitiest years in my life.
No one met me at the entrance, except for an old waiter, who would be glad to remember me, but that's just the head that doesn’t digest anything except crosswords. It is understandable - she stood on this watch ...
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No one met me at the entrance, except for an old waiter, who would be glad to remember me, but that's just the head that doesn’t digest anything except crosswords. It is understandable - she stood on this watch ...
Read more →