Why
A new day has dawned.
The smell of cigarettes. Room.
A small window.
Bed.
A notebook on the table, and nothing more.
A stiff smile remained.
Open eyes.
Saliva bubbles on the mirror.
There was no answer.
It's quiet.
In no time, the room filled with the scents of the morning
11 aprile 2024
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di Nastasimir Franovic
Our graves are made of rough stone. Gray as a rainy sky.
Scattered across flowery meadows like(…)