
Andrey Zhilin - 5/8 Radio #203
The reality around you suddenly turns into a beach bar called «Carousel». It smells of cypress, charcoal fish and cheap cigarettes. The lights are dancing on the sea surface. The dance floor is sticky because of all the alcohol spilled overnight. There are only you and a hugging drunk couple dancing there (he is a chubby man in a light coloured loose-fitting suit, he’s hardly pronouncing «I’m technically married, but …»; she is a petite brunette in a provocative short red dress). Somewhere on the embankment howls the siren of a police car. Moustached bartender puts your (well, whose else?)…
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