I stepped out into the yard early in the morning, almost automatically, with my phone and a cup of coffee in my hands.
I looked, not immediately understanding what exactly was bothering me. Then it dawned on me. This «heap» was slowly moving. Not sharply, not actively, but as if the entire mass were breathing. The thin lines inside were intertwined, shifting slightly, as if it were a single living b.o đy. A wave of disgust and a…