It sat in morning cafe, having taken places in the most dark and distant corner nasty shined poor the solar beams which hardly
are making the way through closed up dirty, by black snow narrow semibasement glasses-loopholes, taken away besides
tolstennymi lattices, small pomeshchenitsa with three-four tables placed on a carpet, become limp from brought by boots, boots,
bast shoes of visitors of a street dirt and snow plentifully flavoured with salt which have transformed theoretically imperishable,
ornamented by abstract patterns and difficult interlacings synthetics into any indecent lumps reminding a bog simultaneously filled
in with black oil and a sexual rag which years ten ezhevecherne wiped toilets in dysenteric barracks.
The smell was corresponding that went only on advantage not fastidious habitue of an anonymous snack bar, as it
absolutely hammered in a stench of food preparing and submitted on a table and if to look at it at corresponding training, fortnight
hunger and through dark glasses, still somehow it was possible to get gradually used and used, representing that this someone's
semidigested blevotina is skilfully prepared krevetochnym soup on milk or even a grill-fillet from three grades of oceanic fish with
lemon slices, branches of greens and a dark ale "the Blue South", on strange whim local the head cook poured out not in the
separate high wine glass which has misted over from a cold, and directly in the same plate, unfortunately, on other it was
impossible to interpret a stench - dung, it and in a plate dung