Trafika Europe 3 - Latvian Sojourn

The forehead of the desert becomes green, because by nature it is jealous, it wants to be the only dry place that honors the sun and ancient legend. And it wants to get into the pharaonic dynasty. “Well, then let’s go look for the sea! Without it one can die of boredom!” everyone says. But they can’t get out of the cylinder. “Do you hear, riff-raff! Stay in the cylinder, you’re theatrical beings and I forbid you to get out!” I become angry even while speaking. “But, dad, why are you cursing them, they look unhappy, and if you don’t let them look for the sea, they’ll die of thirst!” Jacob pleaded. “All right, I’ll open the curtain, but only with the proviso that in the evening you’ll eat oatmeal with fish oil, which you hate the taste of, and go to sleep at nine!” I pronounce my conditions.

Jacob agrees.

The beggar goes first and carries the barrel of tar. The meat grinder does a headstand, leaping on its fingertips. Mephistopheles gallantly flutters his overcoat and sneezes lightning. The prince, having thrust the wooden sword into

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