I was returning home
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I was returning home. Rain. This fine nasty autumn rain. Cold drops on the collar. Gray evening wet haze. The big city dissolves in it like a muddy ghost, staring into the emptiness with the dim light of the windows. Rare passers-by. Rare cars. City. I feel you. I hear you. I know you.
The text of the book was translated from the original language using an artificial intelligence program. For the most part, the translation of the text is of very high quality, but in some cases, due to the imperfection of the technology, there may be incorrect phrase translations in the text, as well as single words and expressions may not be translated.
FL/241422/UA
Data sheet
- Name of the Author
- Валентин Бабакин
- Language
- Ukrainian