من حدود ۱۱ سالم بود و تولد کسی بود و همه دیگه داشتند میرفتند. من و دوستم رفتیم سراغ باقیمونده کیک. روی کیک خامه و شیرینیهای گوناگون بود و ما هر کدوم را مزه میکردیم ومزه ها را با هم مقایسه میکردیم. یک تیکه کوچیک آبی بود که دوستم زود بر داشت. بهش گفتم یک خورده به من هم بده ولی اون گفت خیلی کوچیکه و نمیشه اون را قسمت کرد. خودش تکی اون تیکه را خورد و من پرسیدم خوب، چطور بود؟ گفت بد نبود، ولی خیلی جالب هم نبود. ما همینطور به خوردن ادامه دادیم که یک دفعه برادر بزرگ طرفی که تولدش بود از راه رسید و یک نگاه به کیک کرد و پرسید: شمعی که روی این کیک بود را کی بر داشته؟
Michailovic pushed his glasses back and sighed. “The following numbers are being released. ”The numbers came spitting out of Michailovic’s mouth, resembling in more ways than one a madman with a machine gun in a massacre. Hardly anyone showed any reaction, making it impossible to tell whether they were shot or not. The notable exceptions were a couple of smiles breaking out here and there as some numbers were being skipped. As the list carried on, Callahan realized that before long it would be zooming in at an alarming rate on his proximity. Callahan had no idea who those ahead of him were, but he could see that none of them were making the cut. He considered it good, after all the more gone before him, the higher his chances were. He looked up at Michailovic, almost trying to read his lips before the words were spat out. “116.” Callahan looked around, trying to identify the holder of this number. However, no one was responding. “117.” C...
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