Роман Чёрный - Нянечка

"Dear editorial office"... I sit at my desk, with several yellowed notebook pages lying in front of me, densely filled with writing. It's a letter. Letters used to start like this. One heavily ill elderly woman wrote it with her disobedient hand twenty-five years ago, so the ink has spread and faded to purple since then. And this message holds more horror than it seems at first glance, more than I can ever imagine. And this is how it came to me...

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