In a forgotten corner of the city, at the end of a nondescript back alley, was a small health food shop. It had been there more than forty years and was once popular. Now, a dwindling number of faithful regulars still dropped in for their traditional arthritis remedies, but it was no longer enough to pay the rent. 🍓 Запрещённое в соцсетях искусство — t.me/kartiny/5953 The owner was a white-haired old man called Mr. Robins, who lived in a flat above the shop. One evening, just before closing time, he sat…