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john2072
PostWysłany: Czw 11:56, 10 Lut 2011    Temat postu: 201005112111542841aln

the snow and a few of
the fathers guiding their families home decidedafter a few moments of
indecisionto applaud them.
The happy trio caught up with Ka at the corner of Little Kaz?mbey
Avenue. They could see that he had seen them coming; he had stepped
back under the oleander treesas if to let a car pass.
“Mr. Poet uggs clearance sale!” cried Z Demirkol. “You’ve got to kill them before they
kill you. Do you understand?”
Ka still had had no opportunity to write down the poem to which he
would later give the title “The Place Where God Does Not Exist” and it
was at this moment that he forgot it.
Z Demirkol and his friends continued running straight up Atatürk
Avenue. Not wishing to follow themKa turned right into Karada?gAve-
nuerealizing that the poem had vanishedleaving not a fragment in its
wake.
He felt the sort of guilt and shame he had once known as a young
man leaving political meetings. Those political meetings had disturbed
him not only because he was an upper-middle-class boy but because the
discussions were so full of childish posturing and exaggeration. Hoping
to find a way to bring back his forgotten poemhe decided to continue
walking instead of going straight back to the hotel.
A feyilai:
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