to disfigure the small piece of land on which they were crowded together, by paying the ground with stones, scraping away every vestige of vegetation, cutting down the trees, turning away birds and beasts, and filling the air with the smoke of naphtha and coal, still spring was spring, even in the town.
My soggy boots looked really bad that day. I bought this coat from the second hand. In this coat I looked just like my boots.
I had nothing to do, so that I went to the library. A perfect place to make your mood even worse.
There is a green old carpet in each library. I don’t know why, but I know that it is true. Maybe, this carpet assures a regular customers that the color of their faces is not so bad. Who knows…
A young man came into the library. He took the yellow piece of paper in order to get the right literature. His pale smile revealed his interest in Jean-Paul Sartre.
Small window. Exhausted hand. Green tie. Rusty blush. Portly butt is confidently marching towards the existentialism. There he is – cross-eyed, lonely, old, ginger hound.
`Good morning. I came here by bus. I get up at 8.45 every morning. I always go to the same station. Every morning I go by the same bus. By bus… You are bored, of course. However, it is the most interesting thing in my life. Bye, have a nice day.`
He went to the reading hall, but spring was still out the window.
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