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Хемуль#6404 | Тема: Моя твоя переводить!It was 7:00pm. On that beautiful yet cold autumn day, the wind shook the frail trees' branches across the street.
Tristan Malory made his slow, tired way. A whirlwind of leaves caught his attention and he stopped to contemplate them for a few minutes. A spray of colors danced around him: fragments of reds, oranges, yellows spread at random, forming a mosaic that stretched on for as far as the eye could see, endlessly. It was rare beauty in that gray and fuming city, in that noisy metropolis constantly exhaling bad air. Coming back to his senses, the thirty-year-old man shook his head. Now wasn't the time to be daydreaming; he had to go home. The long day weighed on his shoulders. But, if he was honest with himself, work wasn't the most tiring thing in his life. Since honest well-paid work was somewhat of a luxury these days, like any model employee, he consciously accomplished every task handed to him, and did no more or less than what was asked. No, what was destroying him was a completely different form of fatigue. An appalling and crushing solitude that had been shadowing him for years, ever since his wife- The light tinkle of the front door opening brought him back to earth. He was already at his flat. A sad and mute living room sat waiting for him in morbid silence. Goosebumps traveled down his spine as he entered the room. |
Хемуль#6405 | Тема: In Da Clubна одном из своих старых ноутбуках - тут небольшая ошибка есть. (а я снова зануда) А ещё статье не помешала бы хоть какая-то обложка, а то белый экран смотрится скучно. Или же так и было задумано?
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