Derecskén süt a nap, -2°C, egész hideg van kint.
As if all this was something more than another footnote on a postcard from nowhere, another chapter in the handbook for exercises in futility...
Derecskén süt a nap, -2°C, egész hideg van kint.
As if all this was something more than another footnote on a postcard from nowhere, another chapter in the handbook for exercises in futility...