Once upon a time, there was a King. He ruled as best he could, loved as much as he was able, and lived as life allowed. Not everything went smoothly for the King, because, after all, he was only human. And nothing human was foreign to him.
Sharp drops pierced the asphalt, but immediately bounced off in different directions, falling in splashes into the puddles.
Darkness. Silence. Only the sound of rock 'n' rolls flitting past the window, blinking with sharps. It’s already dark, and that’s why they stick to the glass – they’re drawn to the sound. Tonight, my whole house is filled with sound. Not just any sound, but rock 'n' roll sound.
Upwards… Then a violin, and again upwards, higher, higher, downwards, quieter, fading; the violin… Argues with the harpsichord, and then together they simply soar. And there… Up above, in the waltz of the sun and leaves…
Red tram number 1034 squealed, accelerated, and, clattering its rims, bounced along the tracks after the blue 1822. Trailing behind the red one were the orange 1215, lemon 1210, lime green, blue, orange, and another blue tram. On the parallel tracks, the trams were somehow not going in the opposite direction as technical progress had once dictated, but alongside their neighbors.
Ogstin exited the building slowly, unhurriedly, as if trying to prove to everyone, including himself, that he couldn't care less about what was happening around him. If he was interested in anything, it was only himself. But he spent all his interest on himself, which could arise in his head covered with short hair.
