Last
morning, last forest paths, last gravel roads.
One
stretch of gravel between Agusalu and Alajõe is especially murderous. Ice-cream
in Alajõe, ice-cream in Kuru. All people are outside, mowing their lawns, barbecuing, sunbathing.
I
reach Kauksi at the same time as Kalle. Get my beer, stick my toes into the
lake. Everything is well.
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