There were two of them - black and white. The white one quietly swayed on a rope, hanging deep in the basement. Soft red and blue oozed through the colorful glass of a small window near the ceiling.
Since time immemorial, people have been getting married, are getting married, and likely will continue to do so as long as they exist. Divorces are a little younger - ever since the church began allowing them. The terrible statistics claim that divorce is not so rare - eight out of ten cases end that way.
If you're tired of the cloying sweetness of dancing beauties and the sticky nouveau riche vibe of Moscow's nightlife, if your heart longs for the flickering of balls on a billiard table, and your stomach hasn't been set ablaze by the dishes cherished by real Mexicans, boldly head to the oldest bar of the Tex-Mex variety, which hides away in Crystal Lane, in the basement of the Gostiny Dvor.
Sharp drops pierced the asphalt, but immediately bounced off in different directions, falling in splashes into the puddles.
You may not believe it, but there are many women in the world who love not only men. And their number is increasing. Some doctors claim that it is completely normal, and that a huge number of normal women have had a sexual relationship with a woman at least once in their life or considered such a possibility. What about you?
Once upon a time, there was a Life. One day, someone asked her, "How are you living?" So then, after thinking it over, furrowing her brow and alternating between smirking with her right and left cheek, carefully and thoroughly pondering the question, she finally lifted her smoky eyes, framed by short black lashes, to look at the one who had asked the question before answering...
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.
