Today, at a party, I was offered to drink milk for an atmospheric conversation. But the milk turned out to be goat's milk. I hadn't drunk it for so long that I didn't even understand at first why the taste was so familiar. And then it suddenly flashed back.
When I was little, I fell seriously ill one day, and they gave me goat's milk, saying it was cow's milk. And after I recovered, they decided to introduce me to the very nurse who saved me from the disease. I still remember her. I got so attached to her.
And when I got home, I decided to skip from memory. I was nostalgic specifically. It's a pity, of course, that not all of us are eternal.
I still remember, Martha.









