Тільки я могла кинути перцю собі ж у каву.

Дивлюсь у вікно... Тримаюсь за скло руками. Вони холодні. Але скло чомусь стає теплим... На підвіконні - чашка кави. Від неї піднімається пара і осідає на склі. Пишу пальцем власну іноземну назву на запотілому склі. За декілька секунд літери розпливаються - на відміну від того, що в голові... Там, за вікном... за тисячі кілометрів. Правда. Далеко. ( Read more... )

"...The most frightening word is "never" - a quote from a Fleur song.
Will there ever be a warm winter with the smell of coffee and cinnamon?
Will there ever be a safe fall because of slipping on ice and laughter as a result?
Will the dark passage ever seem romantic?
And four blue roses - not a funeral bouquet?
Was the 27-minute tourist attraction the ( Read more... )

I read that plastic surgeries on eyes are the most complicated ones.And I noticed there was written only about the eyelids correction, not the eyes exactly. Is it really impossible? I still had the hope I would be able to have a normal face and life, but I lost this hope having read all that ( Read more... )

The 3rd cup of coffee is on the table in front of me. A paper with a printed image. It's burning...

My beautiful life...
The smile...
Laughter...
Imaginary talents...
Dreams about journalism...
Going out...
Reality...
...everything is burning and flying to heaven with smoke...
The smell of Premier Jour by Nina Ricci in the air - the smell of memories. It is ( Read more... )