a.venicioarmin
One day, rather one night, the magic happened. She was with her diary, those where she keeps secrets of the soul and some other things
One day, rather one night, the magic happened. She was with her diary, those where she keeps secrets of the soul and some other things. The lantern light on the table made her a beautiful and immaculate image. Maybe the light towards his contribution, so that his skin and his hair took a dreamy tone. His green eyes seemed to reflect his thoughts. Me, just try to light a cigarette. Without another idea, but not being a spectator of such an intimate moment. She submerged in one of his pages, probably full of memories, stories ... they say that newspapers are written so that secrets are only shared by them, the pages of the agenda. But that night she broke that tradition. I will never understand why I was chosen for such an act of trust. She is sure that the secrets, the one that I give to the agenda and now to me, will continue to be, in any case, our secrets.
One day, rather one night, the magic happened. She was with her diary, those where she keeps secrets of the soul and some other things
One day, rather one night, the magic happened. She was with her diary, those where she keeps secrets of the soul and some other things. The lantern light on the table made her a beautiful and immaculate image. Maybe the light towards his contribution, so that his skin and his hair took a dreamy tone. His green eyes seemed to reflect his thoughts. Me, just try to light a cigarette. Without another idea, but not being a spectator of such an intimate moment. She submerged in one of his pages, probably full of memories, stories ... they say that newspapers are written so that secrets are only shared by them, the pages of the agenda. But that night she broke that tradition. I will never understand why I was chosen for such an act of trust. She is sure that the secrets, the one that I give to the agenda and now to me, will continue to be, in any case, our secrets.