Countryhumans | Chạng Vạng

Fill this void ( RusAme )

Winter solstice.

Blue sky as a gem. The streets in the country of Aries put on the quiet, deserted look of a winter day. With weather like this, no one was on the street, everywhere the sound of leaves rustling in a tedious way. Someone will immerse himself in such things, because he may have realized the boredom of life, the true nature behind the bustle of this city. But on that winter day. In the freezing cold, there was a person standing still outside the street, just for something. Nobody knows, and nobody cares. Despite the bone-chilling cold, there was rubbing the skin of a tall man. But maybe he was too used to this. The cold might not mean anything to him. Wow, the cold air of the sky is no match for the hardened soul of this European.

Russia it? He wants to die.

What he's doing is trying to cling to the last living hopes of his life. That would still be much. Funny how one of the mighty powers has such an emotion. Killing him every day was not the boredom and the chilling cold of great Russia. Because those things don't match how much he is suffering. Russia is always hovering in the past circle, obsessed with the Soviet Union. Ha, that traumatic past should have been forgotten long ago. It's just that he kept digging it up, chewing it over and over pathetically. Because this person is empty. The heart has rotted, suffering tormented every day. Around and around, it all came from the guy. Disgusting guy. What a comedy.

Russia rubs its shoes on the tile background. This street is like every other street. Strange to the point. Almost every day, every day he wandered around in the cold. Light gray fur coat on the outside, sweater on the inside. It's thin here if you wear it like that. If he wasn't careful, he might catch a cold. But then what? It is better to let the sick to die than to live in this great suffering. The clouds up there leisurely. There is no suffering in heaven. He also wants to follow them. To a place where there is no pressure, no gossip, no small expectations, no expectations about a great Russia. Where he gets to drink every day, do what he likes, get out of the shadow of the Soviet Union. But, after all, it is all a vision, an illusion of a loser.

Finally, Russia still quietly home. An apartment he bought could not be called spacious and rich. But enough for him to live peacefully from the scoundrels out there. However, it was like a bars, separating him from the rest of the world. Partly because of his conservatism still exists from the time of SoViet Union. He has a family, there are naughty brothers. They were very close to him, seeming to be the last comfort to this dead soul. He also wanted to look like a good brother, but then it was all useless when every time he looked at them, he saw the silhouette of an old father. The one guy he always wanted to forget. Then, for a variety of reasons, he locked himself in the bars of the dark house, and his soul was gouged out. But also, ignore it. He can't do anything else. Breathing out, the smoke drifted in the cold air. The road to his house is so quiet. Leaves rustling again. Another light roar on the cloudy cloud is cloudy. It's still cold, he can know it clearly when the wind flows through this soul. Bring a burning pain to the extreme. Like a bone marrow.

Stop in front of the door. Back home already. Go to his house. The house where he was alone and lonely, and blood flowing and stinking on the marble tiles. Searching for the key in the pocket of his coat, this guy's mind is drifting back to somewhere. Conveniently handed into the drive. Russia suddenly realized this door was not locked. Not when he left the house he forgot to lock the door. Someone must have entered here. Then suddenly he smiled, a faint smile and contempt. Maybe one of his brothers came to visit, or maybe all of them. How many are there in 3 children? Only they had the key to his house. Do they still remember this irresponsible brother? Or do they not want to see the boredom reach out to stab him? Russia lightly pushed the door out, wandering into the house. The house was dark, without a light, only a faint light from the living room window illuminated the house. He wondered what these floods were going to do. Enter the house without turning on the light. Russia here is not selfish but forbid them. He put his shoes inside and looked at the shelf. The man's eyes were surprised and he turned to frown. There are leather bots on his house shelf. I also have no one who wears shoes like this. There is only one annoying person carrying these things. A man whom the military imperial lord hated.