AFTERNOON COMES FAST, and so does evening and night. Of course, it will. Both of us fall asleep inside the freezing cellar – me on the iron door and Liam on the tun – with the waterless and unenergized body. Stomachs are grumbling aggressively. We have no choice but to let them be, and the only thing we can do to ignore them is sleeping – sleep on this solid, agonizing stone floor. The smell of unhandled wines and alcohols and the unpleasant smell of mucky room for ages blend with million dust, forming a pestiferous atmosphere.
We are getting weaker and weaker while sleeping. I become lazy to open my eyes and look at what time is it on my watch whenever my mind wakes up. Because of my laziness, I never did anything more than sleep and wait. Why is nobody coming he
