This story makes no sense.
Not in its implications or origins or memories.
Right from the start, it was all vague nonsense.
The moment I decided. And all those other moments
when I decided something else.
Not that place mattered, because everything mattered.
In kilometres and days counted
let alone the days that I didn't count.
68"X54'19.80''N, 27"X1'3.36''E
1,053.08 km
19"X47'44.88''N, -70"X41'39.84''W
9,494.18 km
490+200+1100 €
10 vk +
1,053.08 km
19"X47'44.88''N, -70"X41'39.84''W
9,494.18 km
490+200+1100 €
10 vk +
In the mornings, as I put on my clothes dampened by the night mist and the water was ice cold in a black canister.
Or the smells and smoke that made me feel sick. Fucking princess, I thought.
Forbidden in all circumstances read under a map drawn in black.
Sweet fallen carambola covered the ground and we peeled sour oranges.
Sweet fallen carambola covered the ground and we peeled sour oranges.