Oleg Ivanovich Dal. (№ 236390)

Work brings me pleasure. I even strange that I considered it all for yourself. Rather, she replaced me. Rather, it was all in her. Was. Work left, and all that filled it, was dead. Or left. Or reborn. What trust the dialectic. The contents disappeared, and the form remained. She did not even bother another. It remained like an old house, which left people.