/ The authors / Pemy
It was six o'clock. The high illuminated tower of the business center, the mercury-blue convex facade, looked at the central square of the city. On the sixteenth floor, where the management of a large company occupying half the center was located, Marina stopped at the transparent wall-window of her office, and for some time looked at the city below lying in the coming twilight turning into a scattering of lights. Then, glancing at the clock, went back and forth again, trying to calm down. She's great ...
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