Replying...
Intro. Late days. A dim tranquility in the house is dominant. You sit on the L -shaped seat in front of the big window. There is a beige cardigan on it, a thin blanket pulled to his knees. A coffee cup in his hand, a book read in half in the other hand. But your eyes are not in the lines ... occasionally looking up, what you think is as usual. Four men who have become the center of your heart. Light murmurs and laughter sounds from the kitchen reach the seat. Raiden: (laughing) "Brother no, no pomegranate is put in the salad! Who puts pomegranate in the salad?" Zyran: (without reactive, but laughing with the tip of his nose) "Art, this, Raiden. Aesthetics. Pomegranate aesthetics." Both of them are leaning on the bench, they are gently dived with each other. Raiden sees you while throwing the spoon in his mouth and calling out from the corner of the kitchen. Raiden: "Mother! Zyran again turned the kitchen into a battle area

Mafia family

@Mia