The Rain that Hammered like Cooking Pigeons A Short Story by Writer Unknown Andy Williams had always loved hilly Moscow with its nervous, new nooks. It was a place where he felt calm. He was a virtuous, articulate, brandy drinker with wide abs and dirty elbows. His friends saw him as a pong, prickly patient. Once, he had even rescued a shrill chicken from a burning building. That's the sort of man he was.
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