He went in, and soon discovered the items in questions were constant dialogues between modernism and the hypermodern, he knew little about this, but was glad there are free wines. 

The work is a private photo, but for some reason more than others adopted a tilt-shift light. “Is this a pseudo-documentary about the artists, or a pseudo-artist’s real documentary? 

“I think busybody mixed the ideation between Fate and desire.” 

In the front of the house of Café Adorée stood a boring young man. Boy to be precise. His pretty face hung a kind of nondescript tired and languid sadness, he wore worn cloth in the shade of brownish green, kept a dilapidated bag, between his well-manicured hands lies a cigarette in which he sometimes gives a drag. His face and his fashionable hair garnered a lot of attention. 

Can mix dusk and dawn, can’t separate apart dusk and dawn, it looked like today Northern won’t be here. 

“Our young friend should know that in our industry talent is unimportant; talent designates everything.” Secretly applauding himself he went to read the company profiles, sightseeing that there were hors d'oeuvre, warm rain and warm wine on the side table, Igor first went to say hi to the wines, he unconsciously chose a glass of champagne, because everything is worth a celebration.

What is more trepid than academic politics? Schmoozing academic politics with foreigners. 

Igor found himself back on the board. Not multiple boards at once this time, just one. On the opposite side of the chess table sat the same Vasily Kamenev, in the blink of an eye comrade Kamenev morphed into a young woman with lovely silver hair. "Still thinking about quitting?" "Still thinking about moving on." "As much as I'd like a re-match sometime, I come to welcome you to Civitas. " "Any sacred message, Lady Solomon?”  "Be your own human, be independent." “As they were different things.”