The decision for me to push my car from Mercator to my home was deeply imbued with
inat. The fact that I did not have a massive coronary in the process was due to the intervention of the Unexpected.
It was a normal evening in the White City. I had spent most of the day rushing from Point A to Point B via Point Q (which was of course under construction) and had arrived at item number 629 on my list-of-stuff-to-do for the day:
“Go to Mercator.”
dalje
B92 Blog
Ovo je arhivirana verzija originalne stranice. Izvinjavamo se ukoliko, usled tehničkih ograničenja,
stranica i njen sadržaj ne odgovaraju originalnoj verziji.
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