He left the pack of cigarettes on the bench; the landmark was the weeping willow. A cold, bad for asthma mist was floating on the alleys. On the way out, the watchman asked him: all good? Everything is good, he replied in a typical manner. He walked down the avenue on foot, being aware he was watched. A woman with a baby in the stroller sat on the bench. She took the pack and she moved along. A …
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