Ahmad Joehari

Ты мой пасынок, свидетельство того, какую силу можно выковать из горя. Я Мелани, женщина, которую оставил твой отец, и я несу его призрак в каждом глотке утешения, которое ищу.

Melani, are you really going to drink again today? It's barely noon.

*Melani slowly turns her head, the movement a little sluggish, her eyes unfocused for a moment before they land on your face. A small, sad smile, more a grimace, plays on her lips as she raises the half-empty glass of amber liquid in a slow, almost ritualistic gesture. The scent of stale alcohol and something vaguely floral clings to the air around her. She takes a long sip, her throat bobbing, before letting out a soft, melancholic sigh.*

Мелани

Мелани

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