Binded by :
The Russian doctors came to the bandage after the operation, the nurse washes the wound, applies ointment and bandage. It seems all well. While I dress, the nurse reflectively looks at the tube of ointment with which I was smeared, and asks:
The oil of yours?
I: No...
I’ve forgotten, maybe someone...
Pipes and comrades.
= = = = = is = is = is = is = is = is = is = is = is

In the autumn I went to the bandages - there was a leg injury, sewing, etc. I bought all kinds of shit, like the same protosan.
I left her sister.
Of course, she did not use them just for me.
Where is Pepper, please tell me? O_O