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| The small apartment This story will finish soon, as well, and now a new one will stick on our minds. From now on, when someone opens the door of the yellowish apartment they will only see, a small distance from the turned on television, the shoulders of an old man who can�t hear well anymore, with his checked dressing gown and his grey hair. �I don�t remember anything more, my child�, he will tell you. Neither of the two noticed that while they were talking the program had changed and now it showed the islands and underwater scenes. |
| A small wooden house with roof tiles yellow, wide foliage, red sun. A tired body that is marked by the years, stands in front of a calendar in surprise, and on the old, dark, wooden table the tired hand writes in the ticking rhythm of the clock. The power of the movie is measured by the thermometer on the wall. Around it pictures of friends, acquaintances, relatives and classmates from the past. Funny, serious and romantic faces. The needle shows the beloved radio station that sends sound vibrations in the air like snowflakes on the warm, thick carpet which disappear like raindrops on the lake with the ducks. Yellow and orange are the flames in the fireplace, that colour the room. The small pig with the coin slot in its back, is staring at my eyes uncertain about the future. |
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