Something suddenly remembered that in our past house, next to my bed, there was a stove covered with pattern tiles. In these patterns I clearly saw the face of the wicked bearded old man. Until I was eight years old, I watched this flower every day before I went to bed, and for a while I was even afraid of it. I told my mom that it was half done. When it broke, she brought a piece of the same tiles from the garage.
- See, here is a bouquet of nails, tied with a ribbon!
It is really a bouquet...