/ The authors / Oshun Shango
Sitting in the backseat, Catherine gazed at a passing pine forest through the tinted glass of a car. She clearly heard the breath of Karim and the driver, and from this she wanted to spit, cleanse herself from any traces of interaction with these two. “Interaction” - this is how she told herself about what had happened, trying to erase from memory the images of alien members joining her in the throat and the vile feeling ...
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High heels and a beige fitted coat, long eyelashes and red lipstick - for her forty Catherine did not look just good, but great. Actually, she could not have otherwise. Spectacular wife was an integral part of the image of her husband.
With a confident step, Catherine walked out of the porch into the April coolness - and came face to face with a tall middle-aged man waiting for someone at the door of her house. “Good afternoon,” Catherine greeted her politely. She did not remember ...
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With a confident step, Catherine walked out of the porch into the April coolness - and came face to face with a tall middle-aged man waiting for someone at the door of her house. “Good afternoon,” Catherine greeted her politely. She did not remember ...
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She gently knocked, and, obediently waiting for permission, entered the office - thin, frightened, huge bruises under dark eyes even darker than the eyes. No matter the ironed blouse bristled over his chest, and covered with light jeans knees barely noticeably trembled. “I ... to retake,” she whispered, although she knew that he knew. - Great, Anya, sit down. Why are you so launched mat, eh? “I told you,” the student sighed wearily ...
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