-Thank you,- I said.
-See you soon.
On the way back it seemed to me that the lighted street was full of shadows. Right before I turned around the corner from which I could see our apartment building a big soroka sat on a branch near me. She shook her tail and croaked.
-Don’t you worry,- I said.
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A writer is a rogue goose. All other gees fly in a flock formation; every goose knows his place and time for honking. The rogue goose is undisciplined. He leaves the formation indiscriminately to have a look at it from aside. He roams back and (
more...)
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