Andrei, Edik and I decided to go for a walk until the evening.
The wind was growing stronger. The wind lifted up garbage and scattered it around.
The wind was blowing – back and forth, one squall after another. It stopped for a moment, but then blew in sideways, from around the corner, powerful and destructive, like a cavalry of ghosts. The stone five-story buildings, dilapidated, many with peeling paint (green, for some reason), looked wild. Their walls and corners spoke of the unrelenting and rough caresses of the wind from the sea. These poor buildings looked malevolent! They were caressed and tormented, mauled and hacked. Ghosts fought ghosts over every building. These poor, poor building, that belonged to the winds, and not to people!
We turned up at Belomorye when it was only half
