It's all one flower.

In the afternoon, as we gathered in the back room of the church to discuss the wedding to be held shortly, an old nigger came in.

"Excuse me. Talking, I'm afraid. You can tell the newspaper to hurry up."

"To me? Is there an extra one?

"No, I'm not from a newspaper, I'm from a church neighborhood, but he wants an ancient newspaper."

The priest immediately clouded his face in the description of the monk, and Khushchenka frowned.

... Someone stole the blanket again?

For that matter, I'm not sure I bothered to tell the newspaper. The church was stockpiling old clothes gathered with donations for that occasion, and was in the process of putting in place a system to reduce the number of frozen deaths this winter.

"For more information, please do so directly from all of you. I don't know..."

At the same time as the pavilion owner of the newspaper shop, the priest stood up, and the discussion of the celebration was opened.

In the chapel, as always, people who are abrasive in their jobs sperm into needlework.

Now I was dismantling old clothes in preparation for winter and making rugs. Sleeping directly on the hard floor of a temporary home makes me cold.

Recently, several additional containers of old clothes were delivered from abroad, but few clothes were in good condition to be worn as they were.

The followers of Alton Gaza continent seem to have seen him underfoot, and Kufushenka was unpleasant, but better than nothing, so he is twisting (twisting) the use and expanding his efforts.

Similar efforts have been made in vacant classrooms in elementary schools. The place and sewing tools were not enough, so the church was also asked to open up for work when there was no worship.

The three men were jealous of their lack of place in the corner of the chapel, but stretched their spines when they could see the priests. The oldest man in the delegate opens his mouth.

"Thank you, newspaperman. I'm sorry you're busy."

"What can I do for you?

"I can't get in everyone's way, so why don't you let me talk to you outside for a second, hurry up, and if possible, get in the car"

"For a hurry to the ancient newspaper? Why?"

The pawn owner of the newspaper sees a threesome who said he was going to pick up firewood this morning, also out of disbelief.

"Can I help you? A little bit in the church, but I have an ancient newspaper..."

The priest offers in a modest voice. The men looked at each other, and the oldest of them shrunk with regret.

"Oh, you're not bothering the priest's hand. Come on. If it's not enough for the rest of the newspaper shop, I'll go back to your request."

"Somebody lost their blanket. What do you mean..."

"Oh, no, he's fine. Come on. Besides, I got better clothes than before, and there's a towel."

Tilting his neck to take care of him, the newspaper shop went outside the chapel.

"Send the tailor to the store, will you?

"If you can hurry, then already..."

"Back numbers are only for the last week or so. I told HQ we'd have about a month's worth of physical placement."

"Oh, oh, Sora, already..."

The men help Kufshenka get in the passenger seat of the wagon and get in the back seat.

When the priest and the nigger dropped him off and the wagon car moved, the young man explained quickly.

"In the meantime, there's a guy on a dug mountain road who wants an ancient newspaper because he wants to know what happened to the Autonomous Community after the fire."

"What the hell?

Newspapers over the back mirror, look at the young man's face. An elderly man supplemented by suppressing the shoulders of a young man who could not contain his excitement.

"A company official with a factory over here wants to know what's happening with the reconstruction, but there are restrictions on access, and the guy outside can't go in the Autonomous Region. The information is going to be money."

"Oh, that's what I said."

Kufshenka was a little relieved, but the newspaper keeps his guard down.

"The story is too delicious. Isn't that a scam?

"Even if it was a scam, only ancient newspapers would be taken. It's nothing, is it?

A third man sends a sweet glance over the mirror into the newspaper's rugged eyes. The newsman did not respond to the old man's charm and threw his gaze across the windshield.

"Priests, if the others ask you, people will kill you in the mountains, so don't tell everyone, okay?

"Oh, yeah."

"You three alone have delicious eyes. Let's see, but if it's not really a dark story behind you, I'll have you standing up, too, okay? Are you all right?

The three nodded like a headshake doll.

"If that's what you're saying, you'd better have a lot of times, not just these days, right?

"Oh, well, do you have it with the manager?

A young man shines his eyes on Kufushenka's offer.

"In the cold weather, I gave it to her instead of a blanket, but after it got warm... I'll take it after June."

"Are you serious? I'll work on a water pump or whatever later and give it back. Can you give it to me?

Kufshenka turned over her shoulder and said to the young man who pleaded with his voice up in joy and excitement.

"The job is fine, so don't cover it up for me. If you're in contact with my brother, I'd like a message."

"You know, the manager's brother, he's a congressman."

The young man shook his head beside him, as the newspaper man said.

He's not a candidate with the senator's teacher.

"How can you say all that? My brother goes to the capital all the time on congressional business, and he has connections with companies that have factories in the Autonomous Communities, with subcontractors that have dealings outside the Autonomous Communities, with all their trading partners, and with human rights organizations everywhere..."

"Kankai because he is a doctor of the people of the lake...... muggu"

The young man was blocked in the mouth by two of his neighbours and held his head down, but there was no way that the decisive words that popped out of his mouth once would disappear, and each of the five became bitter faces for another reason.

"I gotta tell you, you're not moving."

Newspapers park wagon cars in front of parks in the estate district.

The three spoke reluctantly about the person they met in the mountains.

The weather is nice today, so I went to pick up firewood on the old street I dug up.

The path of the cobblestone retreats if it's a cluttered demon or a weak demon, but it can't prevent even a little strong demon or a warcraft that has gained the flesh of the world. Women, children, the elderly, the injured, the sick... I also gathered the portion of those who could not come to collect firewood, and went back and forth through the mountains and the square at the foot.

After noon I was talking about it's time to get up to work today, and I saw people coming from the west down the streets in the mountains.

A winged snake is a silver badge (today) with green hair, white coat, and raised from the neck.

He said he had cured a number of emergency transported Autonomous Communities residents with a curse doctor at Zerneau Municipal Central Civic Hospital. Instead of the spelldoctor himself, an acquaintance wanted to know what was going on in the Autonomous Community and was asked for an ancient newspaper as consideration for his treatment.

"... and they told me I needed water to cure it, so I split it it with Mimi in the ancient newspaper."

When the old man finished his explanation, an indescribable silence descended into the car.

As Kufushenka handed over his memory, the pawn owner of the newspaper opened his mouth first.

"Did you treat him now?

"Because if you don't get it cured, you can't eat it, and my brother and this foreman were cured by a curse doctor at a civil hospital before these air raids..."

A young man pleads in a voice about to cry at the disturbing voice of a newspaper store. In one word, the fragmented memory of the old Kufshenka was connected.

"My brother used to go to a civil hospital about how to handle an emergency transport in an occupational accident. Can you tell me the name of the curse doctor?

"Excuse me. I'm not listening."

The three of them shrink with regret.

"Sure... If you're a surgical curse doctor (I'm sorry), I've discussed it with my brother a few times at a meeting... I'll just give you the newspaper, so why don't you take me with you?

"Your grandmother's legs don't work."

One of the men shook his head sideways, but the newspaper man glanced at him and said.

"Don't take him with you when you're young. I'm coming too."

The story came together and the wagon car started the engine.