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Once upon a time ... a story

Vladimir Kush

many years ago, when Adele was only a girl, believed that life, his life, was a story whose leaves could write how I want and whenever you want.
used to imagine a book of old covers and edges lightly browned, and when it opened, a scent of fresh flowers brushed his small little nose.
The pen used to write, was the thin stem of a leaf, which used to change color depending on the mood of Adele, when I was happy the projected turquoise, when she was angry, red mahogany and when I wanted to mourn, wore navy blue.
As separator, liked to think of a fairy who slept among the leaves of the book, using that particular day as a welcoming home where shelter.
That was the world that the little Adele had invented to escape from a reality too sharp. He wrote a piece every day, thinking that those letters would build his life, just as she wished. No matter if events unfolded differently, because in the end, all carrying what she had written in his diary.
However, as happens to every human being when you leave the innocence of childhood, Adele discovered that life could not be a story, and obscured the reality that beautiful universe invented.
His mind became rational, skeptical, cold, and that made the security she felt in itself, is completely cracked. Adele
But, like all people struggling to survive in this world, managed to advance in life, completely forgetting the book I had started writing as a child.
However, we know that when we were young, our desires and our imagination are a special force, and that makes anything possible, although much time has passed ... When Adele turned sixty
and five years, blew out the candles without thinking of any special wishes, for he no longer believed in such things. Received the kisses of his two sons, the embrace of her husband and the gift of his granddaughter Alba.
When she opened the present that the girl had given him with great enthusiasm, his face could not hide a look of surprise.
I looked carefully, held it between their hands pulse
wild ... It was a book, or rather, of a newspaper. The covers were old and the edges were slightly browned, and the leaves, hinted at a fairy-shaped separator.
- You like? - Dawn asked with a huge smile on his lips. That's when Adele
discovered that magic exists, but stop believing in it.

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CHRISTMAS! Block the 2nd

DECEMBER AND IS ABOUT THINGS AND NO END TO MY HOUSE, I HOPE TO HAVE EVERYTHING YOU WANT BUT I SEE THAT AS OF PATCH not become A FINISH. Hope you like

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Sensations

Claude Monet

Imagine a train, old, of those at a loose speed as a showcase of green landscapes passes in the eyes of the passengers calm.
Imagine, then, an old train, not luxurious but warm and welcoming.
do not know what or where your destination is gone. This information has been blurred, perhaps, because some of the characters in this story want to keep the details secret, or simply irrelevant.
chose a car, for example, the number eight, and we thought it only because in reality we are not there, nobody can see us, we are ethereal.
We appear in a narrow hallway, dimly lit by a warm light pastel color, and we realize that we are next to a neatly dressed woman. We are looking but not seeing each other, because we are but an invisible barrier for her.
The woman, in her thirties, is quick to shelter in place, and we realize that any concerns we do not know, seems to own it.
decided to follow it, because we are intrigued by your attitude, and their steps lead to compartment 3 B, a small room tastefully decorated. In it we find a narrow bed, a wooden seat and entrance to a bathroom that can not see because the door is closed.
The woman sits up in bed with a frown. She bites her lip and sighs wearily.
We sat by his side. It seems so worried that we just can not comfort her, but we can not do nothing but watch, and we sigh with her and we remain attentive to their reactions.
Suddenly, she gets up and goes back to the compartment, closing the bolt on its way and hurried breathing.
We were a little quiet, not knowing what to do, but few minutes without anything happening, we decided to also get up to leave the compartment. However, something stops us ... something we had not seen before, makes us stay there, motionless.
We note that under the bed is a kind of black lump that protrudes slightly.
do not know why, it seems that this way we are hiding something important ...
Slowly, but without stopping, we approached the edge of the bed and put on his knees. We peered into the darkness and we see the black lump about the size and shape of a person ...
first thing we thought is that our imagination plays a trick on us, but ... what if not?
Then the woman goes back into the compartment, close the door behind him and rests in it, while an outbreak of tears begin to cover the eyes clear.
think if this delicate woman would be able to have a body hidden under the bed. We think if the black figure may actually be a person. Maybe only luggage ... and if so, why are you crying?
never know what happens in the 3 B compartment of the car number 8, for the character of this story, do not want to reveal his secret. We can only stay with a sense of unease that we will build our own end.
But the woman, who is the main character of this story has made a mistake. She does not want to know anything, however, has left a track without realizing ...
Beside the bed, on a bedside table, rest two chopped train tickets, which indicates that women do not travel alone ...