He wiped the sweat.

He drove away the thoughts.

He stared bluntly at the spot of the park.

Against its background appeared the bright flashing

that turned into the white little point.

He squinted his eyes.

He noticed an old woman carrying

a huge loaf of bread and one gallon of milk.

'What harlequinade is it?', he hissed.

Clenching his jaws, he turned on the scraping machine.

Having put bread and milk on the bench,

the old woman was waking up

a hobo.


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