If you step on the street, your face is filled with the sunshine, the hopefulness of life, the fear of loneliness instead of thousands of hours of hours set in the hustle and bustle of days, enough melancholyk in this era.
It remained so silent that it was never too late to be transformed by this writing, reading and loneliness. Today he would be inviting birds on the beach, maybe even a few friends, to throw a pretzel, a bagel on the road, a beach on the beach, where he would drink tea in the cool air under the first false sun of spring next spring.
All these enthusiastic plans for waking up and a little bit of sleep woke up hastily and left the house. When you throw your first step into the street, your mind is like a lightning bolt; he forgot the key inside again! It's a habit of not leaving the house for a long time .. "I do not come back this time, I get the backup key from the host," he was told to walk. Interestingly, instead of descending down the coast from the road, he set out to walk directly to the hills above him, finding himself in front of the park, among the trees, in the hills a few blocks ahead of the angry house.
At the entrance of the park decorated with vines, he walked towards the bank, knowing that he had not been suffering for years, bowing his head inevitably, his face falling, and seeing the big city and sea at the highest point of the park. "He, pasha, you are welcome, where are you? I think you have been killed, my son, will you forget human being so easily?" he lifted his head and smiled, "Come on, I'm bringing your tea instead."