Dmitry Krylov - 5/8 Radio #236

Apartment 66, eighth floor. Tanya looks at the beautiful lipstick imprint on the wine glass. The last guests have just left: she can still hear the elevator rumbling down, carrying Ildar and Sasha. Someone left the turquoise lighter on the kitchen table next to a cup of cold coffee. It became completely quiet and therefore a little melancholic. Perhaps she should have slowed down a bit. Then she wouldn't have felt the urge to tell that childhood story about summer camp in front of everyone (yes, the guests laughed, but it seemed more out of pity) or to plan a joint trip for the upcoming weekend (it's already clear – no one is going anywhere). And she definitely wouldn't have wanted to write that message to that person while stepping out to smoke on the balcony (of course, he read it and didn't reply). Tanya stretches her legs and closes her eyes. The interior of her tiny kitchen with a glowing garland, silly magnets on the fridge, and a pile of dirty dishes in the sink, smoothly transitions into spinning abstract paintings. Ahead lies an uneasy ten-hour sleep and a heavy morning, which can only be improved by a painkiller pill and a mix from 5/8: radio by our buddy Dima Krylov from Samara