Snow fell, and as it knows how, it made everything quieter, smoother and nicer. It would be good to have the same effect inside. Times like this, full of stories of struggle. Although when it was different. It constantly shakes and worries, and now the heart is already bursting not so much from internal vibrations as from the shift of external tectonic plates. And the snow, of course, and these wounds will manage to sprinkle, but spring will come, and all over again.
Project "Hundred Years' War"