shelfland

It snows again. I love this cold: it is rarely so white, grating and immediate to walk on the streets. On sunny days, the snow glistens and trees fall in rapturous blue shadows. Recently met a former friend. - And we will still remember, - she said. Her voice was clear, clear, cold. We have talked a bit, and then she says with the same tone of marble: - I have to go. Goodbye. One life after another. And for that, there is absolutely no need to die physically.

                                                                         ✤✢✣✤

A series of mental pictures: streets gold and glittering, the sun on the window, steel glint of sun. When I was pulled into the frame suddenly it became clear that all of the following years did not happen to me. Most of all I was struck by one man who rolled up his sleeve, revealing a blue tattoo on his forearm. And he said to his neighbor: - Here I have all their names written.

                     ui