Hunt for summer
“May is not far off.” The sky is yet grey, and once checked he turns his head back to her. “And then, we need them. Your little hands.”
“My hands, which I find no good?”
“Uh, I find them no good,” he rolled his eyes mimicking her.
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This is Nothing Personal
Short Stories and Essays. Secret Diaries of an Opera Critic. UX Designer’s Pain Points. Everyday Life Observations and All That Is Behind. All materials are copyrighted by Polina Lyapustina and may not be distributed, modified, reproduced without the permission of the owner.
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