Nuran around, sitting on the stairs watching. Street staring excitedly run to the right and left of peers. Today was the feast; Ramadan. Someone somehow his name "Sugar" had put festival. Whatever the name, he made no difference to the fate of Nuran and friends.
Small leaned his hand on the chin, but I was looking around the empty old eyes. Not festive dress, her hair was even scanning. He hated everything. Why and why have-or did not answer. But he feels the same hatred and resentment against everything ....