/ She knows that she’s part of this species, a massive, global herd. She kills time contemptuously, upon her death nobody will ever suspect her of having done anything for anyone, she will not have taken part in anything other than the casual roulette of everyday life. She thinks that nothing happens anywhere else, she doesn’t care about suffering, she’s indifferent to the past, to the future, she’s only a flash of consciousness, too furtive to truly broach the night. She looks at the sky, she closes her eyes, and this moment is part of her appearance, of her life as a female, as a human, her appearance unnoticed amid the massacres of generations succeeding one another like so many fresh troops swiftly destroyed. /

Седьмое сентября две тысячи десятого года. (+незавершённая) История в этот день была сосредоточена не только вокруг предстоящего футбольного матча между сборными России и Словакии, первый тайм которого, к слову, Я ( Крутикова Диана Андреевна ) неожиданно пропустила, хотя

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