Vanya - 5/8 Radio #234 5/8 : radio
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- Muziek
Apartment 35, ninth floor. Yana closed the iron front door with a clatter («Nina Valentinovna from 36th apartment will come to argue again soon») She carelessly put the heavy grocery bag on the tiled floor and the jar of pickles at the bottom of it clanged loudly («I hope it hadn’t crash!»). She couldn't get out of her head that Luzin was standing in line in front of her. The same senior high school student, Luzin, whom she secretly had a crush on in school. Now there was almost nothing left of that curly handsome football player she remembered: he had ballooned up like a ball and lost almost all of his curls. And those awful patent leather shoes... She wonders, if she and Luzin were a couple now («There was zero chances, but still»), would she notice all this? Or would he still remain in her eyes the same wide-smiling guy in silly tracksuits, just scoring a goal in the dusty backyard football box on Krasnaya Street. It was getting dark outside, the highway was humming as usual, the windows of the house opposite lit up with violet light from the phyto-lamps, and if there was anything that could save Yana from the spiraling thoughts of her unrealized life right now, it would only be Vanya's mix for 5/8: radio.
Apartment 35, ninth floor. Yana closed the iron front door with a clatter («Nina Valentinovna from 36th apartment will come to argue again soon») She carelessly put the heavy grocery bag on the tiled floor and the jar of pickles at the bottom of it clanged loudly («I hope it hadn’t crash!»). She couldn't get out of her head that Luzin was standing in line in front of her. The same senior high school student, Luzin, whom she secretly had a crush on in school. Now there was almost nothing left of that curly handsome football player she remembered: he had ballooned up like a ball and lost almost all of his curls. And those awful patent leather shoes... She wonders, if she and Luzin were a couple now («There was zero chances, but still»), would she notice all this? Or would he still remain in her eyes the same wide-smiling guy in silly tracksuits, just scoring a goal in the dusty backyard football box on Krasnaya Street. It was getting dark outside, the highway was humming as usual, the windows of the house opposite lit up with violet light from the phyto-lamps, and if there was anything that could save Yana from the spiraling thoughts of her unrealized life right now, it would only be Vanya's mix for 5/8: radio.
1 u. 5 min.