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dullygray pages: November 2016
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Short stories and other fiction. All original work © 2009 - 2017. ФРАГМЕНТ ИЗ ЖИЗНИ ХУДОЖНИКА. Чья-то небрежная рука поставила его рядом с томиком Камю, в самом центре второй полки слева. Небрежная рука, вероятно, обтянутая холодной черной перчаткой. Ну конечно же! У нее перехватило дыхание оттого, что книга все еще была здесь. Весь этот проклятый супрематизм, он исчез навсегда (и черт с ним! Но рассказы Камю. Дата и подпись. Ее. Subscribe to: Posts (Atom). Good art bad wine. ФРАГМЕНТ ИЗ ЖИЗНИ ХУДОЖНИКА.
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dullygray pages: February 2016
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Short stories and other fiction. All original work © 2009 - 2017. 8216;Sophie, what is it with you? 8216;I don’t know, Miss Baumann, I just thought of something’. Miss Baumann put her cup on the coffee table in front of her. Sophie could tell every minute vibration of the glass as the ceramic cup hit the delicate surface covered with notebooks and German newspapers. Miss Baumann’s upper lip quivered. She was angry. Sophie apologised. She really was. Overcoming her fear and her embarrassment? Was it done ...
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dullygray pages: November 2015
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Short stories and other fiction. All original work © 2009 - 2017. С дверью захлопнулся и ноябрь. Здесь было тепло. Только из аэропорта, они жадно упали за первый столик и прислушались. Из-за барной стойки ее голос. Позже, сквозь красное вино им показалось, что она сама была здесь: без одежды, с гитарой. Длинные коричневые волосы, французские скулы. Однажды они играли с ней. И теперь вдруг заговорили. Там, где играли оркестром на тонущем корабле в последний раз. Пять лет назад. Subscribe to: Posts (Atom).
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dullygray pages: May 2016
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Short stories and other fiction. All original work © 2009 - 2017. EVERYONE HAS TO SCREAM IN THE RAIN. I loved you, dear, for eating that big juicy peach in the museum of hunger. The museum of hunger! And then, later, I loved you for stripping naked on the beach, in front of a dozen suburban kids playing volleyball or just sitting on the sand counting the seagulls. You stripped naked. You never cared for one second what any one of them could be thinking (I did! Because there was more. A DAY IN BOSNIA.
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dullygray pages: January 2016
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Short stories and other fiction. All original work © 2009 - 2017. The room was heavy with water and lactate. The live band spelt it out for him, with one swish of the cellist’s bow. Sweat. It was hanging by gigantic droplets from his eyelashes, obscuring his vision and not allowing him to see his dancing partner. The sweat was inside his mouth, too, like sour milk or like a bad kiss. 8216;What is your name? 8217; he shouted to the girl. He assumed it was a girl. 8216;Well, methanol for one…”. Peter was a...
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dullygray pages: September 2016
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Short stories and other fiction. All original work © 2009 - 2017. TODAY WE ARE PLAYING BRIDGE. 8216;Today we are playing bridge’. Oh how we longed. In those thirty minutes that seemed to be over in a flash, he would not just painstakingly describe the bridge rules to every last dummy who probably didn’t know how to put a teabag in a cup, but also talk about matters we were all deeply concerned about. Girls. Sex. Relationships. And he would do so to a classroom that was only half. Lack of effort. But ...
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dullygray pages: TODAY WE ARE PLAYING BRIDGE
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Short stories and other fiction. All original work © 2009 - 2017. TODAY WE ARE PLAYING BRIDGE. 8216;Today we are playing bridge’. Oh how we longed. In those thirty minutes that seemed to be over in a flash, he would not just painstakingly describe the bridge rules to every last dummy who probably didn’t know how to put a teabag in a cup, but also talk about matters we were all deeply concerned about. Girls. Sex. Relationships. And he would do so to a classroom that was only half. Lack of effort. But ...
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dullygray pages: December 2016
http://dullygraypages.blogspot.com/2016_12_01_archive.html
Short stories and other fiction. All original work © 2009 - 2017. Маргарет Митчелл и бледные руки. Книга была огромной. Тем более огромной, что бледные ладони едва могли удержать ее. Но каждое утро я подходил к тому окну, под которым она читала, садился рядом и ждал момента, когда она перелистнет страницу. И если школьный звонок не прерывал эту странную близость, то. Тонкий палец легонько вздрагивал и начинал медленное движение к самому краю страницы. Напряжение возрастало. Разгадка случилась через недел...