She felt the charms and times trickling down through the thin fingers in a hilarious way and was designing herself to fall into youth abyss. She watched harmfully how the rain was falling onto her and hesitated – it suddenly turned colourless. It was fear and rage; a third person was spoken about. But she carried on. She was hiding narcisism in the flames and watching his face changed into the unknown. She was dancing, singing to herself her happiness; was painting, sketching immortality. She remembered, after a long separation, the rumour of heyday and wrapped it up selfishly in silk. She was carrying her voice over and over again, but overcharged from lips. Demanded the theoretic meanings of facts, thoughts, beliefs, listening to the shade of a maple leaf. And when, with wholes of irritation and enthusiasm, she unfolded her wings wide and flew away.
Written By Olivia Cojocaru
