Trafika Europe 7 - Ukrainian Prayer

Joy

but I recognize the brown girl. I make eye contact for a second with her black eyes, I find that fire in them again and I look away. We approach my car and nothing happens, their voices are rather happy, almost singing, as if they have put themselves into the music. I unlock my doors from a distance with my remote and the warning lights flash. I ask myself if the girl is the only one to see me go by.

myself in selling the idea without worrying about the execution of it. The other two thank us as well. During the meeting, they are happy to agree with what their supervisor said, to ask a few factual questions. All three of them leave the club before us, declining the owner’s invitation to the club. They would have liked to have a drink but they didn’t have the time, they should run. Outside, I have the impression that the sunlight is brighter than when we arrived. They are there: a small gang around three cars they have tinkered with, all the doors are open, French rap blasting in the background. Ange asks me if it’s them. They’re smoking weed that we smell from here, they laugh, they don’t look at us. We have to pass in front of them to get to my car. I don’t see Rédoine

“By the way, sorry for last time!”

I turn around, Ange as well. Rédoine is there: he’s the one who just spoke. He is wearing white sweatpants and a leather jacket. “Turn down the music please. I don’t want to bother these gentlemen.” I recognize the way in which he addresses his gang. One of them dives into a car and

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