R. A. Allen

AFTERTHOUGHT I went out to my mailbox. Everything was addressed to a previous occupant (twice removed) who is now, according to my...
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Zakhar Prilepin

“What the fuck did you do this for?” One of the policemen, the fat one with emphysema, still couldn’t calm down. “The fucking fuck. Did you build any of this? What right do you have to destroy it?” No one was in a hurry to answer his question. Lyosha gazed calmly ahead, and you could read on his face that he didn’t feel the need to answer anyone’s questions. Sasha could have answered, but his busted lip stung, and he kept licking the blood.

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