to see the new city, but at the same time I suffered from the fatigue. I gulped down a glass of water from the mini bar and opened the window. A silk tent was put up overhead. I couldn’t explain, really, how it held on. This light grey tent was a bit crumpled in the place where there was a gang of several dark clouds with irregular edges. They reminded me of grey mould stains on stale bread. Other clouds, larger and thick, like lead, had golden fringes. Nevertheless, everything was in motion, everything was changing with each moment. Heavy clouds were piling up, so their bright contours blended into obscure patterns and then disappeared. A flock of fluffy clouds, chased by the wind, crumbled and turned into small rags. It seemed like some artist painted every inch of this blue desert in detail, but then he accidentally poured a glass of water directly onto his masterpiece, because the sky seemed to be blurred. Neighboring houses, on the contrary, had crisp outlines. I was going to conquer the city, to explore every corner of it, but for now I should make do with what I had – a couple of old brick-built houses. What stroke me most was that they weren’t run-down. Although in the old half-ruined buildings there is something magical, looking at a dwelling that is full of life is more pleasant. Behind the houses in the next street stood a stone wall with silver pipes, which straightened, as if they had been given a strict order to do so. The closer houses on the narrow cobbled street had tile roof, which very much reminded me of fish’s scales. My curiosity knows no bounds, when I come to a new place. That is why I tried to lean out of the window even more, to gasp the immensity. On the right there was a blue hill, which could be comparable to the head of a hippo poking out of water. The roar of cars and abrupt woman’s cries were heard on the left. It is the direction I will keep the path in tomorrow. The way, full of new discoveries and surprises. I will dive into the city and at the same time – into a new majestic culture. But it will be tomorrow. And now it’s time to close the window, as the evening is coming on and the air is becoming cool. In addition, the windows are lighting up gradually. Hardly Hungarian people like it when someone gazes intently at their private lives.
25 Sept 2017
Waiting for New Adventures by Anfisa Doroshenko
I swear, I tried to overcome the impatience
to see the new city, but at the same time I suffered from the fatigue. I gulped down a glass of water from the mini bar and opened the window. A silk tent was put up overhead. I couldn’t explain, really, how it held on. This light grey tent was a bit crumpled in the place where there was a gang of several dark clouds with irregular edges. They reminded me of grey mould stains on stale bread. Other clouds, larger and thick, like lead, had golden fringes. Nevertheless, everything was in motion, everything was changing with each moment. Heavy clouds were piling up, so their bright contours blended into obscure patterns and then disappeared. A flock of fluffy clouds, chased by the wind, crumbled and turned into small rags. It seemed like some artist painted every inch of this blue desert in detail, but then he accidentally poured a glass of water directly onto his masterpiece, because the sky seemed to be blurred. Neighboring houses, on the contrary, had crisp outlines. I was going to conquer the city, to explore every corner of it, but for now I should make do with what I had – a couple of old brick-built houses. What stroke me most was that they weren’t run-down. Although in the old half-ruined buildings there is something magical, looking at a dwelling that is full of life is more pleasant. Behind the houses in the next street stood a stone wall with silver pipes, which straightened, as if they had been given a strict order to do so. The closer houses on the narrow cobbled street had tile roof, which very much reminded me of fish’s scales. My curiosity knows no bounds, when I come to a new place. That is why I tried to lean out of the window even more, to gasp the immensity. On the right there was a blue hill, which could be comparable to the head of a hippo poking out of water. The roar of cars and abrupt woman’s cries were heard on the left. It is the direction I will keep the path in tomorrow. The way, full of new discoveries and surprises. I will dive into the city and at the same time – into a new majestic culture. But it will be tomorrow. And now it’s time to close the window, as the evening is coming on and the air is becoming cool. In addition, the windows are lighting up gradually. Hardly Hungarian people like it when someone gazes intently at their private lives.
to see the new city, but at the same time I suffered from the fatigue. I gulped down a glass of water from the mini bar and opened the window. A silk tent was put up overhead. I couldn’t explain, really, how it held on. This light grey tent was a bit crumpled in the place where there was a gang of several dark clouds with irregular edges. They reminded me of grey mould stains on stale bread. Other clouds, larger and thick, like lead, had golden fringes. Nevertheless, everything was in motion, everything was changing with each moment. Heavy clouds were piling up, so their bright contours blended into obscure patterns and then disappeared. A flock of fluffy clouds, chased by the wind, crumbled and turned into small rags. It seemed like some artist painted every inch of this blue desert in detail, but then he accidentally poured a glass of water directly onto his masterpiece, because the sky seemed to be blurred. Neighboring houses, on the contrary, had crisp outlines. I was going to conquer the city, to explore every corner of it, but for now I should make do with what I had – a couple of old brick-built houses. What stroke me most was that they weren’t run-down. Although in the old half-ruined buildings there is something magical, looking at a dwelling that is full of life is more pleasant. Behind the houses in the next street stood a stone wall with silver pipes, which straightened, as if they had been given a strict order to do so. The closer houses on the narrow cobbled street had tile roof, which very much reminded me of fish’s scales. My curiosity knows no bounds, when I come to a new place. That is why I tried to lean out of the window even more, to gasp the immensity. On the right there was a blue hill, which could be comparable to the head of a hippo poking out of water. The roar of cars and abrupt woman’s cries were heard on the left. It is the direction I will keep the path in tomorrow. The way, full of new discoveries and surprises. I will dive into the city and at the same time – into a new majestic culture. But it will be tomorrow. And now it’s time to close the window, as the evening is coming on and the air is becoming cool. In addition, the windows are lighting up gradually. Hardly Hungarian people like it when someone gazes intently at their private lives.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment