"Hi!" There"s a soft voice, he turns to the door. The child-faced, disheveled woman in summer pajamas looks at him with narrowed eyes.
"Hi" he murmurs quietly setting the jar down on the table. He turns away from the flayed Angelica.
She closes her eyes.
"Ira, I"m really sorry, but this must end...""
"I"m also sorry, Angie" interrupts Ira. "If you want to be so independent, we"d better just really end this, and our paths diverge. Don"t you think?" opens the fridge, but stops. He hears the trembling sound but doesn"t catch it. Looks at the salad. Closes the door. Turns to Angelica. ""With a bit of luck, you might even find a masochist in the club" Ira goes into the living room, picks up the paper from the small table, drops it on the dining table, and places the pen on top of it. "So
