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All stories begin with the word.
One. I walked along a dusty road on a hot summer day. Scorching sun unbearable, it was stuffy and very thirsty. Along the road now and then came across the puddles after a recent rain filled muddy zhizhey, covered by film and has a greenish with white butterflies sitting on the edge of the cracked earth. Was thirsty, and I was ready to take a fancy to the most attractive swamp.
But then I felt a haze of hot air breathed easy coolness. And it appeared, my angel. Angel greeted me with a condescending smile of ironic and beckoned for him. Amazing! trying to catch up with her, I saw traces of a cat, chain flowing between the rocks.
She brought me into this magical world where everyone sees it differently. Here the fountains of love, waterfalls feelings are boiling on the rocks of suffering and loneliness. Passion River flows into the ocean of disappointment. I tried in vain to wet his parched lips, bracer passed through me. And then I decided to dissolve itself in this world to absorb it with every cell of my mind.
So I'm here with you. Scorching sun evaporates me a cloudy mist and rain from the storm clouds of drops on the dusty city. I absorb all its dirt and debris. Then on Koshkin trail creek back into the world of poetry and dreams for the purification and the new cycle.

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