There was, once upon a time, in an officially bankrupt land, a girl. She didn't wear a red hood to hide her face. But she wanted to take a ride with some friends in the city she lived in. She wanted to drink a damn beer. But the city didn't seem to appreciate the idea. It has empty and uncanny. The streets were cold and dead and she wondered where they could find a harbour. After more cold and soul-searching and cigarette-searching they found a place they used to hang out in the past. Everything felt familiar. From the greek version of Glühwein to the metal tables and the same faces. Everything looked alright. But then she went out on the street and a wild fear took her over. She knew she was part of the generation without future but that was too sudden, too hasty, too hard. The hard wind blew on her face. And she was alone in the city. A good way to cool her mind. She was definitely buying pasta tomorrow. And then she went back home...

Right, still not bankrupt. Not officially. But she would still buy pasta tomorrow.

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