He came back of his own volition.
BB and I were sitting in the station Kavarna, and Marek appeared. He walked over and sat in front of me, smiled, said hello, then hung his head. Then he looked up and started talking. He wanted to know where I’d been sleeping for the last three days. I told him the park, as usual.
“No wit friends?” he asked.
“No,” I said.
He wanted to . . .
Sorry, but this content is restricted to paying subscribers only.
Register here. Choose a monthly, yearly, or lifetime membership.
Then support risky writing here.