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Moscow, July 9, 1998, summer cafe on Arbat Street. Constant rustle of footsteps, a cocktail of smells, the noise of hundreds of voices.
16 hours 17 minutes, the first glass of brandy (burnt, disgusting in taste and shamelessly expensive).
- Yes, sir. Well, what are you staring at? You do not see - we are koo ... Okay, gone, and ...
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16 hours 17 minutes, the first glass of brandy (burnt, disgusting in taste and shamelessly expensive).
- Yes, sir. Well, what are you staring at? You do not see - we are koo ... Okay, gone, and ...
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She loved the Sabbath days. For the fact that the Boss did not hurry anywhere and paid almost all his attention to her. In the morning, coming from the street, she climbed into his bed. He, as always, chased her to the carpet, but did not do it strictly, so that, having tricked, she won back a place in his ...
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She was one of those angels who are best watched from the ground. What he did. Armed with old-fashioned binoculars, he crawled to the distance of the smell to a secret piece of the wild beach, where she made a daily birth of foam. Why binoculars, you ask. But how can it be without him ...
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- Opus number 31. Sonata in G minor for piano four hands. Part one. Vivo non tanto.
Well, the voice, she thought ... Probably, such a list of sinners will be read at the Last Judgment. And all of it is good, this nightstand, locked with the key of its militant virginity. And steps, steps ...
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Well, the voice, she thought ... Probably, such a list of sinners will be read at the Last Judgment. And all of it is good, this nightstand, locked with the key of its militant virginity. And steps, steps ...
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- Seven.
- The king.
- Seven more.
- The king.
- The king.
- Seven.
- Hang up.
- Yeah ...
Basta turned over the cards and exchanged glances with Kopusha. She answered with her crown glance - olives in their own juice, without stones.
- Nine there? - asked Basta.
- Well, well, easy! - the Tick was indignant. - Good ...
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- The king.
- Seven more.
- The king.
- The king.
- Seven.
- Hang up.
- Yeah ...
Basta turned over the cards and exchanged glances with Kopusha. She answered with her crown glance - olives in their own juice, without stones.
- Nine there? - asked Basta.
- Well, well, easy! - the Tick was indignant. - Good ...
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The last few weeks she was not up to the earrings. Now the lobes are almost overgrown, and she quietly curses, threading old grandmothers, “family”, heavy earrings in them ... Everything. Is done. She looks critically in the mirror. Old gold looks unfashionable, but stylish.
- To start...
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- To start...
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She was bad. My head was spinning, the sun was hitting the back of my head; a hand that had numbed in the morning sometimes exploded with bell-shaped pain. In the eyes of saving saving darkness, and, gathered in a fist, drove the heat short refreshing oblivion. She knew exactly what time it was, and it was worse ...
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She always loved quality things, whether it's clothes, furniture, cars, food or tobacco. She understood that the work of hundreds of craftsmen will always be different from the muddy stream of consumer goods. And now, sitting in an excellent, beautiful armchair, she enjoyed drinking good liquor ...
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She did not understand why they pity her, although she was used to it from birth. Her world was no worse than the other, about which she knew by hearsay. Her world was smells, sounds, touches. They told her a lot. Sometimes they shouted at her, and then she covered her ears. And her world ...
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