—I had a friend. Let's call him Iscariot. He earned that lovely name. I can't forget not what he did to me, but the phone call he made to tell me what he did. "It's something bad", he said. "I'm sorry", he dared to add. Then he told me. I hung up the phone. Like with my father, I saw him once in the streets a few months ago. And like with dad, he won't forget that happy reunion…
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