The closer New Year, the stronger nostalgia on crunchy snow. Even at the most inveterate skeptics and cynics this night hearts fight a little faster. Because New Year, whatever one may do and pretend to be that you in what magic don`t trust, is all the same miracle expectation. It is enough to remember and feel at least taste of tangerines, a smell of woolen mittens to which have stuck snow, grandmother`s fritters with honey...
This night, fireworks everywhere blow up, and the sky lights up with a round dance of the color sparks similar to fantastic fairies from any forgotten children`s cartoon film, and habitual and simultaneously strange silhouettes of fur-trees through glasses look brilliant multi-colored eyes of spheres. It almost as is fantastic, as Santa Claus who has climbed through a window leaf. In the world smells like a holiday…
In life there is a place to a positive miracle. Sincere, genuine and improbable! Because the magic is when words are added in rhyme... Verses also turn out. Magic is when usual packing of oil paints turns on a canvas to a surprising landscape. Magic - it happens. It can`t be planned. It is always. It is necessary not to wait for miracles, and simply to trust in them. After all they trap us continually.
You would like a little more magic on New Year`s? Then it is necessary to go and buy all gifts. And then to be at home at the TV with a cup of coffee and to wrap them in celebratory packing, without feeling sorry for bright paints and spangles ...
2. I was at home yesterday.
3. That hat is mine.
4. I don’t work. I am a student.
5. My favourite writer is Jack London.