People observe the colours of a day only at its beginnings and ends, but to me it's quite clear that day merges through a multitude of shades and intonations, with each passing moment. A single hour can consist of thousands of different colours.

“They say that war is death's best friend, but I must offer you a different poin…”

“I wanted to drown inside a woman in the feeling and drooling of the love I coul…”

“After perhaps thirty meters, just as a soldier turned around, the girl was fell…”

“It's not the place, I think. It's the people. We'd have all been the same anywh…”