«Dunno in Sun City»

My impressions of life on the island. Here everyone is busy with something simple and clear, as in Nosov’s stories about Dunno. Someone writes poems, someone bakes bread. Here people run along the sandy shore rather than chase goals. It’s like a little world dreamed up by someone, where — shielding yourself from the sun with the wide brim of a straw hat — you knock down dried palm leaves with a long stick.