He knew he fell asleep quickly before actually having touched the pillow. The dream was kind of itchy and disturbing. Noises from the outer world were passing through the closed eyelids, bringing unnecessary pictures to his dreams. Which were already messy and not easy to follow:
Some old, wizened face woman with no mouth talked to him about the shoelace he was destined to untie. Huge shiny, glamorous insects were vomiting glitter. Someone or something clapped, disturbingly.
Finally, he was awake.
The air around was cold-moisture and heavy. Somehow, beneath him, was a bathroom floor, not the bed he clearly remembered to lay on yesterday night.
It was almost impossible to look around because of the steam.
He stood up on his feet, but before his glance reached the blurred mirror, he knew life would never be the same!

They have been in love since they could remember. That kind of love which isn't prohibited de facto, but still impossible.
They say you need two to love each other to move the mountain. It is not always true. At least for them, it was a stupid sarcastic irony. It doesn't work if you are a mountain yourself.
In the beginning, they didn't even have names for each other. Then people came and gave them names. But not the beautiful ones like everyone enjoy remembering, but just the North and South mountains.
Probably they would live their whole lives with these stupid names. But once the North mountain asked the South if she could call her Green Tear? Because of her adorable small waterfalls. "Of course!" agreed Green Tear, "Then I would love to call you the Dawn because of the sandstone that covers you. No matter what part of the day it is, if the sun touches you, you look like the dawn, and it always makes my waterfalls tear.»

Snow was sticky and looked more like the sponge which sucked in all the water than the fluffy frozen powder. The temperature constantly jumped from two degrees below zero to back to plus. It was the perfect time to build a snowman, but not a good time to walk in it wearing semi-season shoes.
Grey, dusty-transparent clouds lazy moved in the sky. Because they consumed all the sunlight, the landscape around seemed the same gray and impossibly boring.
That's why the carrot-colored bus changed everything when it's stopped in front of a park entrance.
I looked at it and thought if the bus can radiant with such a color among this weakling winter, I definitely should try too. Somehow, some why, I took off my shoes and put bare feet on the ground. My soles and my soul suddenly smiled toward this immediate cold.
Unexpectedly, this icy touch turned the whole world into a warmer place.

"Welcome!" says every sign of every train station in the world. Warming and comforting in all possible languages, talks to everyone and no one at the same time.
How sad it should be, exist for hospitality, but bein ignored most of the time!
However, how should I know! I'm just a metallic bench with an uneven surface, placed on the way station in a land with very constant cold weather.
I meant to be a place for the rest, but to be honest, I'm tearing myself apart between — being slightly uncomfortable or icy torturing. Questioning myself over and over, does this simply mean, or thoughtful, so they will never miss the train?
The truth is unknown.

Yellow-rusty fields of an earphone-berries. Just pieces of a small blue fragile plastic, not meanies at all. Free of any music. O-bla-bla? O-bla-don't!
Where do these all come from?
Endless island of silence and devastation. With no one to listen, but life goes on!

The last drop of the crimson sun sucked into the ground a minute ago, and the whole land lost the light. Now everything was tediously blue of the dusk.
She was dancing in the middle of the house of prayers, completely alone. It seemed like every living soul decided to go to talk with god, just because she needed to be with herself.
Stepping one foot in front of another, slightly waving hand palms, she swung forward and back.
Suddenly, among the steps and the music rhythm in her head, she started to hear her heartbeat and breath coming in and out of the lungs. She even heard how the wind rolled over the sand dust upon the ground.

That's how the silence sounded. Quiet, but not void.