sacred and profane
It is December and there is sunshine. The sky is clear and blue. Does not even so cold. The sea and mountains. It seems to be in Rio de Janeiro.
Yet here I am trapped in 'is the machine. I have the motor with the engine broken, which will be repaired in "no take two days ..". There is a tail that is probably far from a Voltri nerves. I also came first, that "you never know."
[...]
There is bus strike.
[...]
There compitino's economy.
: O
