Podgovten am departure. Coffee which has already been set to hear the ring as a sign that raises is

Podgovten am departure. Coffee which has already been set to hear the ring as a sign that raises is over. I go to the kitchen. Wave of the ring. I put in a glass of milk and put it on the table in the lounge. I sit on the bed in the living room and the table t and full of nonsense, which surely never think to arrange properly the apartment, looking for tickets for Zagreb. Turning around the table, I came across several texts with pencil - nenoastren, several times I've written title
- "Hunger". - Follows introductory phrase - Hunger, in each of us individually ... -. and here I am finished, I see below that I wrote my name, which is no communication with the first phrase of this piece. Honestly, I do not know for what reason I signed?
Among the nonsense and find the ticket uninterested blow leaves that as flakes have proliferated throughout the apartment. And them I was too lazy to take the floor. I leave them. I open my backpack to check kollku beers I had bought for the trip. 6 limieki. Enough. gran balon torino
I take the paper, which is entitled "hunger." Light a cigarette. I stop by the window. I look through it. I think, we are hungry, and our stomachs are full of such bags in which there is only air and water, which further depressed the technical symbolic sense.
Trne my eye. Four floors below, look empty - dirty city, with huge underground parking and an old graffiti on them which no longer have any meaning. I think these garages ever had slezhea Skopje Underground, today is a reflection of a museum of a passed punk time, which will never return.
Climbing the avtbusot to Zagreb, which is partially full. It relaxes me and I guarantee relaxed travel. Calmly we arrived in Zagreb, traveling about 10 hours. Long trips I did not annoy me, on the contrary enjoy them, why travel in the country. Arrival of the railway in Zagreb, look for Varazdin proceed. After an hour. I have time. I sit on benches in chekalanata and opshutam. After 15 minutes sitting down next to me, old man, between 79-80 years. Take a green hat with a tassel on top, a green coat with a brown shirt, shorts, knee high socks and brown shoes. He has filled eyes red obrvchinja little freckles and short mustache. Looks right. From rucksack sandwich gran balon torino wrapped in foil. He begins to eat. Sandwiched recognize, gran balon torino eggs, lettuce, and there is something but do not understand what ...? It acts very interesting and start a conversation with him.
He: Excellent. Visitor?
I felt offended. I became. I went to other waiting areas. Antun, look at me, wishing me back to the conversation, but I refused. Over my head already, when I go to festivals, when you say where you come with wonder to see it. As our country gran balon torino is paralzizrano of creative.
I sit alone in the waiting room the other. It is empty. Departure to have 20 minutes. From speakers station starts song "RUKE" Darko Rundek. This relaxes gran balon torino me especially and almost zabaravam of Antun. Time for Varazdin.
I enter the train. All coupes are full, with the exception of the compartment in which sits Antun. It Antun sitting gran balon torino alone. This is even stranger? I stop in front of the cabin. I look at him. Antun're looking through prozrecot. gran balon torino Do not even noticed that I'm here. After a few seconds, they hesitate to enter. I leave my bags. I sit, Antun, no one even turns to see who was in the compartment? We're leaving. After a few minutes, Antun out of the compartment. Leaves luggage. gran balon torino I remain alone. There is something strange in the aura are doing that overlook. For a moment, Antun returns. From rucksack bottle of white wine and a glass. gran balon torino It otvoara wine. Put the little masiche which is by the window. It looks at me.
Coming out of the compartment. I feel a little strange all this and somehow not hesitate to pick up the wine. My inner struggle below last few minutes. The compartment gran balon torino includes two drunken Chepelare. They laugh and talk about politics in Croatia. I'm interested in the conversation and gaze out the window. I do not premituvam when silence. I turn to them. Both see me. One, asking me if he could drink a little wine. Gladly natochuvam. Drink and admire. gran balon torino
The other drunk sitting down next to me. His breath smells like rotten red wine. His gums are swollen bruised eyes. Out of pocket fotgrafija which clearly show Tkalchicheva street in Zagreb, before 30 years of photography He and a lady.
Pochnuvat me to amuse me these two strangers. His natochuvam wine. The wine really is wonderful. Both below 30 minutes razvivaaat nevomozhna hassle, and I drunk the wine that did not notice that you drink what tastes good. After 30 minutes, the two out of the train. I remain alone. The train starts. Opposite me see things of Antun. It has not? Train ride, I drink from win