Dmitry Glukhovsky. Text (№ 383483)

Was zero. The water turned into ice and ice into water. From the zero air fear went away but instead began to accumulate drop by drop frostbitten anger. What with Illya all right? Why is life in the corner was in the corner ends? Why is he powerless against the world? Where is the justice that he from punishment can not get away? Why is to kill a man - it turns out, and forgive - no? Why is everyone in the hands of Crookshanks? Why, but to lay hands on yourself, there is no other escape, and suicide is in hell? Well, you're a God or the owner of a slaughterhouse?! To endure. His head hiding in his hands, his neck retracting into her shoulders. On the area - not stand out, not to argue, not to argue. Gave the broom - revenge. Said to turn away; to turn away. With God to agree on the fact that the godfathers knock is not made. Thieves to get around. The guard around. In the eye not to look. Wait for freedom. Yes, where is she?!