At a certain point of my entry into Belgium, nightly lane on the freeway widened and turned into blooming groves or avenues. Black sky. Fluorescent lights gave the familiar landscape of urban character. Through half-open hatch is blown into the cabin perfume scent of unknown origin. It was not the smell of flowering ivy, and out of season, and I'm even afraid that this smell of burnt clutch, but can not smell the same bearing are so sweet, he srezheschet, but there is clearly something in bloom. To Brussels remained slightly less than four kilometers.
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