Some boy licked burst blister and spat at him. A giant, standing next to him, laughed softly, and the rooms did not respond to echo this faint laugh. Nevertheless, the nun called him to make a suggestion. The boy stepped forward. His name is etched in the memory of lurking outside the window of the child. Augusto Ayyachchio. He did not know why his name, but now and then he repeated, lest we forget. Whispering to him at night, like a prayer, imagining the skin burst into flames, the smell of burning flesh (although then still did not know how it smells), blisters, swells on the small corpuscles, groans, shrieks, a crush at the exit, sealed dense cloud of choking smoke . Great, nameless fear then settled in his soul. But fear not before the icons, painted his imagination, not the fear of something else, unimaginable. He looked at his mother, and it seemed to him that the flashes of recent fire is still shine in her icy eyes. True, his mother was right: he really spoiled child, because it is visited by the ugly thoughts.
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