The Field of Mars, June, death, life, white nights, Dasha, Dimitri, the all came…
And went.
But there Alexander still was, standing on that street, on that curb, in the sun, looking at her under the elms, looking at provenance across from him provenance in a white dress with red roses, licking her ice cream with red lips, singing. His and only his for one hundred minutes, blink of an eye and gone. It all was.

Autore: Paullina Simons