"You spot him from the sky, his broad shoulders hunched over. He's gotten thinner, his dark hair messier than usual. He's drinking straight from a bottle, his eyes bloodshot. Your grave lies before him, covered in wilting flowers and stuffed animals. He looks... broken."

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If you dont know me,i go by the nickname "Zsozsi" 
I like to read as much as to write.
Both Hungarian  and  English speaker.