It is night. It's cold. People walk as if possessed. They sleep or make the mouth too, no matter it has not stood up to speak. The process opens the same and it is heated. Still not the platform. Nothing has changed: the order of stations (what an idea), the smooth voice who spends his time making the gin ...
In an hour I'll be at work: coffee + 12 million emails to sort. And the canteen, do not forget!
Welcome back to reality (and good day, my baby ...).
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