1 Amicita semper prodest, amor et nocet (Syrus)

The bus to Northampton was so crowded that all the windows were wide open in that frosty winter day. Half of the passengers were standing; others were trying to make place for the standing small children. A little girl stood with her grandmother near a seat where a family was seated. There sat a mother, a father, and their eldest son who was about the same age as the standing little girl. Soon the family got acquainted with the grandmother and offered a place for the little girl to sit. She would not, no matter how long she was asked for. Then, all of a sudden, the boy turned to her and in his childish voice said a half broken sentence that was hardly understandable for the adults but quite clear for the girl.

"Wa yu j'st sit dan n' stap ol dis gremlin'."

The adults laughed at ease but the girl looked deeply into his eyes and asked:

"May I ?"

And she climbed on the seat next to him. A gay chattering arouse between the parents and the grandmother. Soon a place was free for the grandmother to sit. So, sitting comfortably, she asked her granddaughter to come and sit on her knees. But this asking was a curt interrupting in her granddaughter's chatting with the boy, and the insulted boy turned to the grandmother and said:

"Pleez, wa yu j'st keep on tokin' n' leev as aloun."

The neighbouring people smiled at this expression and the mother persuaded the grandmother to leave her granddaughter play with her son. But then it was time for the grandmother to get off the bus before reaching Northampton. And so, she got up from her seat and called her granddaughter to fallow her. She thanked the hosts as she got down the seat. She caught hold of her granny's hand and turned to the boy to say goodbye.

"Wa yo naim?" he asked shyly.

"Angelica, and yours?" she smiled with all her beauty.

"Ricky," said the boy, "Bye, Angelica."

"See you, Ricky," she said and followed her grandmother who was jerking the crowd with difficulty. When they got down the bus, the boy pressed his face on the window to see the girl once more. As they were going along the side rode the girl kept looking backwards until the bus started and was soon out of sight. When the bus finally disappeared behind a hill, she left her grandmother's hand and, facing the hill, she whispered: "Ricky…"

That night it snowed heavily. I was sitting by the firestone trying to warm myself. The continuous snowfall had cut the ranch from the whole world. The rocky mountains surrounded the little village where my ranch was. It was usual at that time of year for the snow to cut the electricity, means of transportation and close even the sidewalks from the doors to the gates. The only thing that kept the village in touch with the rest of the world was the wireless.

I tuned the wireless over and over until I found my favorite station. It did not sound very clearly because of the heavy snowfall. My favorite radio station always gave the music hits of 60's and 70's that I liked very much.

I added some more wood on the fire and, as it was getting dark, lit a lamp. I approached my bureau, opened the drawer with a small key and took out a big book thick with papers and photographs inside, took it to my armchair, seated myself on it curling up in woolen blankets, put on my glasses and softly touched the thick cover of the book.

The decorated with glossy, carefully dried white rose petals book had slightly been torn. The pages were supposed to be yellow, but that pages had letters stuck upon them. I carefully opened the book and looked at the first letter on the top left of it; it read…

Newcastle, 29th of February, 19 –

"Dear Angie, I have been looking through my old papers and rearranging them when I suddenly noticed an old photo-album. I opened it and like a flesh of a lightening all my childhood stood before me. I remembered my parents, my twin sisters, everything. As I was turning the album, I ran across our class photo of the fifth form. Do you remember?

We were playing with the children in the schoolyard when an adult woman with a girl of the same age as me called to me. As I approached her, I saw a slim, little girl standing beside her. The woman asked me whether I knew where the fifth grade was. Just because of my shyness, I dared not answer her, but looked back and cried to the children. When they approached us, I introduced them to our new schoolmate. All of a sudden she smiled and on her cheeks appeared a smile behind which peered the white, sugary teeth. Her white dress made her the best of all the angels, equal to goddess Aphrodite. That Goddess was you!

I remember that I hated you at first as I have never hated anyone. It was your pride, perhaps, that made me feel hatred towards you. You were always the crown of the class; you loved to be praised for every small deed you did. You loved everything, and everybody loved you, everybody but one who hated you as if you were the very devil. That one was I…

Do you remember our first quarrel? Wasn't it nice one for a school grade as low as five? I think so. The poor teacher was up to have a heart attack! Wasn't that funny?! Remember? Poor us and poor her! How mischievous were we!

Angie, dear, I remembered all connected with our first meeting and the first years of our being together, and our separation… but I can't remember the real cause of it. How nice to try to remember all of the past no matter how bitter it is! I… I cannot even send you this letter, I am afraid. I don't know why, but I'm afraid…"

Northampton, 1st of November, 19 –

"Dear Ricky,

I tried to send you a letter but I think it is useless. I even wrote two or three rough copies of it. Like you, I also do not like to tell secrets to others but to the one whom I most confide in. That one is you or better this letter. Do you remember our childhood? How nice was our first meeting! And the very first love letter, have you got it?

I must confess that when I saw you for the first time I imagined you a pretty guy but a very naughty one. Your thick lips, chestnut eyes, smiling expression always on your face made me feel an unpleasant feeling. Laughing, isn't it? I also laugh at it now. It's so... so...

I do not want to remember such things but something makes me to do so. I looked at all the o photos that I have and remembered all. What about that mischievous act we did? Remember? Wasn't it a courageous thing to tear a desk cove, write some epitaphic on it and drawing a cross put it at the school entrance? Fine! How about our punishment that day? All of us had to stand on one foot for about an hour or so without having the chance to shift it! Nice, I can say!

I have written much about everything the photos made me to remember. I cannot remember any more by now. But what concerns this letter I really will be sending it to you but... like you... I... can only promise to send you the letter but I'm not sure you are due to receive it any day of any year. At least I hope that you feel all right, safe and sound and your…"

Newcastle, 4th of January, 19 –

"Dear Angie,

Again I remembered about our past, again and again my life comes before my eyes. We both applied for the Oxford University, all but one of our class did. All succeeded, we too. The same building but different faculties, the same reading-hall but different subjects, different studies.

Do you remember our friends? Of course, you will not forget them! I also will not ever forget. What about your group called "Trinity"? What has ever become out of them? Do you know? You know, Connie was a good girl, but I did not like Betty; she was a little self-satisfied. She was as horrible as the cats that my sister Nell hated as if they were the only real devils in the whole world.

Remember we used to study together. We used to sit at the same desk-table both in the University and in the Public Library. Then something happened that parted us forever. It was like a flash of a lightening that cut down the solemn tree in two and burnt it down to ashes in an instant.

I invited you to the cinema, you alone, but you wanted to bring Betty also. I curtly refused and… and this might have offended you. You are so fragile like the most fragile chinaware. I am sorry but I had no choice. I wanted you to come, only you… How nice would it be to be seated next to you, holding your snow-white hand and patting it softly as if it were the unique representation of compassion and love, a symbol of holiness, so pure, so white…

How I wished to kiss it and feel the scent, the taste of this heavenly skin, feel the ardent desire to kiss it time and again. Feel your love and warmth of your hand. So nice, so sweet, so…

I wanted to whisper in you ear, " I love you" and hear your clear breath sound in my ear as a pure creek floating, as the softest breeze blowing over the silky cover of leaves that are variously shaded in autumn. They sing a nice and sweet song of life so beautiful, so desirable, so wonderful, so amorous like liberty, and sound like life and love, happiness and joy. I will always hear your voice in my mind and cry all over the hall, over the city, country, universe… "I LOVE YOU!!!"

But I could not make you hear it, except if I hold your hand, looked directly into your eyes and deep in them read my thoughts and see my dreams. But you refused the very next day; you delayed it on another day, which was never to become true. You just said once: "Sorry, I can't, maybe some other day…

Maybe…"

Northampton, 25th of October, 19 –

"Dear Ricky

Today I was doing cleaning in my attic and in an old iron box of clothes I found this little funny animal. It gave a start to my memories, so sweet they are! Memories are always sweet to remember, any kind of memories, but to forget such as this one would be a disaster for me.

I love it, that little teddy bear. I glided its fury paws over my face and imagined your soft fingers touching it. It was like you standing before me, could I feel your presence, your breathe over my cold lips and your eyes looking deep into mine.

You know, I set up all last night trying to write memories. Though I achieved little success, only three lists, I wrote down the most notable things in my life. I typed it out and entitled it "Desiderata," meaning my wishes. It is a kind of stupidity, but it is my will.

You do remember that day, don't you? I really do, indeed I do. I was sitting at the desk in the Public Library reading-hall with the two of my friends when you came in and asked me out. I said I was too tired to walk and you offered to carry me in your arms … Then I agreed to come out with you and then you gave it to me in the corridor, as it was my birthday that day. At first, I said that you need not have bothered but within my heart I was up to heavens – you were not indifferent towards me! Oh, how I wish I were more stubborn to agree you carry me in your arms…

Sorry…"

Newcastle, 12th of June, 19 –

"Dear Angie,

Thanks for coming into my dreams tonight. You do not know how I missed you. I have not seen you for nine years already. I was in London then on business when I caught hold of your unfading beauty while you were walking down the Waterloo station underground. I tried to follow you but lost in the crowd of people. I really knew that it was you but I dare not call out your name aloud. Maybe I'm too weak already for the years have changed me but I still remain to my position that love never fades away: it may slow down to sparkling like newly set burning coal, but it would never burn down to ashes just for one sole reason – I love you. (You may open the brackets if any, but I suppose it stands for itself already).

Another memory got hold of me as soon as I opened my old documentary case deep in it I found a letter dated on the 30th of September, while we were sophomores. I wrote a card to you and decided for two more weeks how to give it into your hands. And than I asked my friend Amelia to sit five tables behind you in the University Library reading-hall and told her to follow your acts. Soon I entered, approached you and gave the postcard to you just saying: "A dove has sent it for you especially." And I flew out of the hall. Later you approached me and gave the opened envelope to me saying: "It's useless." That insulted me and even now I remember that very minute. Do you want to hear what I have written to you? Yes, I know that then I was ashamed to tell everything in words but now I'm not. It's because of age! Hush! Hear attentively!...

"My dear,

You already know that I am not indifferent towards you. As it is difficult for me to explain all to you in words, I decided to write it all down on a paper. We must meet somewhere else to talk about many things… I'd like that nobody knows about this and let it stay between us… "

P. S. Amelia said you got pale for an instant when you read the card. I hope you liked it. Anyway, thanks even for reading it…

By the way,

Happy Birthday!"

Northampton, 5th of March, 19 –

"Dear Ricky,

I am writing to you another letter that I am not going to post. I have serious reasons for that but I cannot tell you about it at least by now. All I need is to tell somebody about my feelings; somebody I can confide in and I found my confidence in that teddy bear you presented me on my birthday. I love it very much. Sorry, I know it may sound strange but I have named it after you. I confess it all my feelings more than I would have confessed to my own parents but you. I ask him everything I need and deep in its eyes I find the answers as if I have found them in yours. I cannot explain my passionate love towards you, and it will never happen, never…

God, oh Good Lordy me! I cannot explain you all my feelings, thoughts and dreams. I just want to tell you one short sentence consisted of three words but having a deeper and wider meaning than itself. I do hope that you will understand all, and maybe try to forgive everything and forget all the worse that had happened between us – I, I…"

Newcastle, 31st of August, 19 –

"Dear Angie,

Memories always come at times they are less wanted but much needed. I found the photo where we stand together near a blossoming rose bush. You are smiling like an angel that has the smile of universe. Then I cut a long branch with a couple of fresh, blossoming buds on it and gave it to you just looking softly into your eyes. Jesus, I can never forget it! When I am sad, I always look at that picture and your smile consoles me.

Once my son Jack saw it and asked who you were. My answer was that we were relatives (you were my cousin), and that is all. I sigh every time I see your smile but it is of a powerful strength. I suddenly remembered two things connected with us – one good, one fatal. However, I would like to tell from the bad one and than console myself with the good one. The bad one was connected with the symbol of pure love.

Do you remember that day in fall in at the University reading-hall? I brought you of the same white rose as on your birthday and gave it to you. I remember, you again said that I need not bother about it. I went away to classes but when I returned the very next hour I found not you but the rose that lay on the table as if untouched. I ran up to the librarian and asked for a vase, filled it with cold water and with a loud voice I banged it on the table. I put the rose in and smelled of it deeply…

For more than a month it stood in the middle of the table where you were seated that very day, until it was all dry. For so long a month or two I did not see you there. Then, one nice morning, I noticed you there reading a book. I went out, you – after me. You wanted to initiate a conversation with me but I turned to you, insulted as ever, and said, "Alas, the rose could not speak…" I turned away and ran down the stairs leaving you alone standing on the top.

Maybe I was too tempered at that time to blame you in everything. I was, yes, but remember that we were young then. Now I blame myself for all that and I agree to sell my soul to the devil just to feel you again next to me, your voice, your vivid eyes smiling and your snow white teeth peering from behind the red rose petals forming the most beautiful smile like nothing else on earth, the smile of universe…"

Northampton, 30th of September, 19 –

"Dear Ricky,

I was looking through my own documents today when I suddenly ran across a dried rose petal. It was dry to pieces, yes, yet my document smelled as if an ocean of newly blossomed rose-field in mid spring. So marvelous! It was the testimony and witness of the beginning of the end of our… It is all in the past but still memories are kept in our childish dreams.

By the way, about dreams, do you see coloured ones? I do, they are very attractive, but it is not good at all to see such dreams. You see, if you have coloured dreams, it means you are living in the past, you are half dead for the present and for the future you are no more existing. Sorry, it is painful but it is the truth! Look at me, a stout old goose with eyeglasses as huge as the outer eyes of a bug and a height of not more than 5,5 feet, that had a hard time in her life, saw poverty and riches, tasted love for nights and pain for days, and yet stood on the cupboard. Awful as it is, it is sweet to remember you and your love to…

Let us leave the dying dogs die in peace. It is useless to make them believe the truth. Yet, the truth is what you will never believe in. You may consider it wrong but that is the way it is. Although I made you believe I did not love you, I went on thinking of you, of your kindness, sweetness and love, I…

This petal is the unique witness of our parting that symbolizes our love that is considerably more than our feelings. In it, I see you in all your might, your heart and soul, so pure and eternal as the snows on the very top of Mt. Everest. By all means, name Everest can be translated into everlasting just using English ever plus French est meaning, "it is." So, "it is [for] ever!" Nice, isn't it? I studied a little bit French in private. I cannot speak (too difficult), but I can understand a little (even more difficult).

All the best to you, dear. I heard that you were appointed as an academician at London Royal Academy. Congratulations! You were an excellent philologist at Oxford's St. Mary's. Well, I did not achieve that success but at least I had the opportunity to have your passionate love next to me that I left unanswered. And all because of my two friends – Betty and Connie, who left me after we parted at the celebration of our reunion of 19 –. I have not seen them since then. I wish you all the best but my wishes will not come out directly from my lips but will be put on a small sheet of paper called 'letter' that no letter dove is ever due to send it to you…"

Newcastle, 28th of April, 19 –

"Dear Angie,

To form a family is never easy so was in my case. I had nobody after you but Nancy, my wife, whom I met while staying at Leads University together with my sister Dell, the first of the twins. It was where we were engaged with Nancy, married and moved to live with my parents and sisters in Alnwick, near Newcastle, Northamptonshire. We built a house of our own near the one of my parents' and lived in it for more than fifty years. Jack was our firstborn. Then Nancy was supposed to have another one but that was unreal – the child died at being born: her lungs were not able to breathe the air on time to leave her alive. Now only Jack remains as a consolation to us. Leave it. The past has passed and cannot be rewound back if only by dreams – sweet memories.

On the point, do you remember that day in Oxford when I was sick and you came to visit me in my dreams? It happened after our quarrel. My sisters were also at the University at that time and we three lived together. I had caught a bad cold that day for over a week, as I had been caught in the rain the previous night before I could get home. The doctor had recited me some drugs that I was taking regularly. That day Dell had a hard test to write in the afternoon and was away to the library. By noon, Nell, the youngest of my twin sisters came and started doing the housework. I was so tired and weak that I immediately went to sleep.

…And, I saw you, wearing all white, approach my bed, kneel before it and whisper, "I love you." And all of a sudden my dried lips faded on your rosy petals that perfumed so sumptuous and tasted like honey…

I wanted that second to last for a whole eternity, but I opened my eyes to find my sister working in the balcony. But, the thing that thrilled me most was a vase on my bedside table that there was not there before, with a beautiful white rose in it…"

Northampton, 11th of May, 19 –

"Dear Ricky,

Again memories surround me. I feel I have no more strength left in me. I am dying out slowly, the soil is calling me to join it once again and for all. I was born of it and I must be buried in it. That is the rule of life. I am sick and tired of this life and it is high time for me to leave it. Indeed it is. Yet, I have to write you one more letter, maybe the last, to complete all my feelings. Last night I looked through them and found out that I have not written about one more thing which is very important to know. It is… it is… Maybe in the end I will have the courage to tell it to you, the courage that I do not have right now.

I guess I insulted your feelings when I gave the envelope back and told you that it was useless. It was just a joke! If you remember on the postcard, there was a picture of an animal and some words as if the animal was thinking. The words read: "I want to live in peace, freedom and love, but I know that it is…" On opening the very first page was your handwriting; on the next were the continuation and the end of the sentence in one word – "useless!" I just repeated that word and all.

Maybe it will interest you of how I came across that memory. Very simply! Last night I was reading my "Desiderata" when I suddenly ran across a piece of small, unevenly cut paper. On it were these words and a date – 30th of September. I might have forgotten to write the year or… It is not so important, but the thing that you wrote there did not match with what you did. You wrote 'let it stay between us ' and you told all to your fellow-student Amelia.

I remember that day clearly. We were arguing again when she came up the stairs without noticing me, and asked you what had happened. You asked her to go away and then she asked whether we had quarreled again. You insisted her leaving you and she turned her head to see me watching your conversation. This made me think you never keep promises and better part from you.

All I can say of my life is that it was really useless. But at least I did my job in this earth – gave birth to a magnificent lady and named her Lily, just after your mother. I could not take care of her so I sent her to an orphanage where she is supposed be now. I have not heard from her since then. Yet, I regret that I was indifferent towards you.

That was all I would like to add, all I remember from my past, and so it may be my last confession in a letter that would stay in a locked box for as long as it is safe, until someone torn it to pieces and throws it into the fire. It is high time for me to leave you in this world, of course if you have not left it earlier. If you have not, I will prepare a place for you, but if you have, then we will soon meet each other, and this time will be better than ever or… Funny, but what if you are married? What will your wife say? So stupid! I never had the talent to think over the details, even separately. I confess, I did not. You were a real genuine, by God, you were!

P.S. Do you remember you once insulted me by saying, "Alas, the rose could not speak?" I tell you, it could and it did. Indeed it was the rose that told me the most important thing in the whole universe – I love you…"

Newcastle, 6th of December, 19 –

"Dear Angie,

A horrible thing happened tonight in my dreams. It may sound a stupidity, I know, but for me it was a real disaster. I dreamt I was coming out of the bathroom. It was all dark but I noticed a light glimpse of what ought to have been a glimmering candlelight. And so it was! As I approached the light, I saw an angle so dim, as if from ancient gothic manuscripts. In one hand it carried a lighted candle, in the other – a fire-end sword! It looked at me as if smiling but I got frightened to death. As I started to cry, my wife Nancy woke me up, and I just told her that it was a horrible nightmare to speak about. As Nancy went to sleep again, I quietly went into my study, poured myself some soda water, and said on my chair fascinating myself with your picture that I like very much.

Once again, I felt your attitude towards me. Do you remember our studying together at the Public Library reading-hall until it closed late in the evening? Once you noticed me get tired of reading and asked whether all was all right. I answered that my eyes were aching a bit of reading that novel. And you suddenly said something that insulted me at that moment forever, even though I did not consider it likewise then. So you said, "Love is a lie, take care of yourself…"

And so it went. I was very amazed at first not understanding what was up with me but I consoled myself as if I had such a nightmare as that one. And I decided to love you more than I did earlier. Maybe like this I could have turned your feelings positive towards me. I just want to say that wherever you do, wherever you will be, I will always love you no matter what will occur between us. It is such an unexplainable feeling – the LOVE. I have loved you ever since I met you, and maybe my love will burn not so ardent as at first but will glimmer like the candle in the angels' hand, and it will never, never die out. Puppy love or whatever curtness occurs dies out sooner or later, but this cannot be referred to LOVE which is unique and will die out after our death and even after it our love will live forever like an everlasting burning torch in Almighty's hands as a symbol of eternity…"

Northampton, 1st of July, 19 –

"Dear Angie,

Yesterday I celebrated my 80th birthday with my family and relatives. Today is Nancy's birthday, she is 79 now. All day yesterday was fine: the weather, home, smiles, but within them, yours was missing, and deep in my heart, I was sad. I miss you because I have not seen you for more than 50 years and I will not see you in this life any more as you have already left it. Yet, I still do hope that someday I will meet you and kiss you as if it were real, not a dream. I cannot explain you my feelings, but I am shy no more for I know one only thing for sure: Love as well as Life is given to us only once and we must enjoy it before it fades away. I lost you, lost my love and together with it my life forever. I could not touch your rosy lips with mine; I was unable and I will never be. But one thing is for sure: wherever you are I will love you, and only you, with the pure, true love that had burnt in my heart for all these years. Thanks for rising life in me. No more words to be written, no more feelings to tell you, no more songs and hymns dedicated to you can praise you as the Goddess of my heart. All I can say is – I love you…

And now I am all alone as if you have gone to the very end of the universe on an exile forever. Yet, you are closer than ever. I can feel your scent, your vibration, your love just having stood here, in the room where you were last. I run down my hand over your pillow and feel the warmth coming from it, the warmth that last came out of your body and vanished in the blue skies. I feel you and, and… I cannot explain! Life is so dull and colourless without you. How wonderful to see you again and forever! But Nancy… I had cut everything, all was my fault, only my. Such a stupid fellow as I am no one is in the whole world. And that is true – at the time of creation, there were twins – the genius and the stupidity. Evaluation is still continued. I am its true example, indeed I am. All is up by now and forever. Yet remember one thing once and for all – I love you, your smile of universe and your pure soul as innocent as the perfumed white rose standing in the centre of God's altar as a symbol of everlasting eternity…"

The window whitened time and again until the rays of the sun softly peered through the dark curtains that covered the eastern windows. The warm light stretched itself to touch the glimmering ashes of the fireplace. On the nearby armchair there slept an old man rolled up in thick blankets. His head was hanging over an open book with long papers stuck over its pages. His glasses had slightly fallen over his ears.

I opened my eyes, yawned widely, arranged my glasses and got up. I closed the book, put it aside, and approached the window. Outside it was broad daylight and the snow was obviously melting. By God, it was incredible! It was late January but was unusually warm as if in mid spring. The bureau was at the window and on it were the wireless that softly sang my beloved song, and the set of drinks. I poured myself some soda water and started to drink. Suddenly I noticed that the bureau drawer was open. I was at the point of closing it when I noticed something white in it and took it up. It was a piece of unevenly cut paper with some numbers on it that lay on an envelope. I put the piece of paper and the torn part of the envelope together – as if they were just made for one another. I sat at the bureau and carefully took the card out of the envelope and read.

On the first page, there was a face of an animal that seemed to think: "I want to live in peace, freedom and love, but I know that it is…" I opened the card. On the first page, there was something written, on the other there was a picture of a couple smiling near a rose bush with blossoming buds… I tried to remove it and behind it a word with large letters took my attention. That word seemed to conclude the sentence of the thinking animal. It read: "…useless!" I tenderly touched the picture with my fingers and softly murmured: "Father, I love you."

I put the card back into the envelope and put it away in the drawer. I remembered my wife Lily who had died more than three years ago leaving his old man in loneliness. I looked out of the window and was thrilled with what I saw – my window opened to a mountain that was totally covered with snow. Oh, heavens! Now it was covered with a thin, violet ring of wonderful snowdrops. Yes, snowdrops! But suddenly I noticed something like a rose as white as the sun and in it I saw a blossoming face of a young lady, and without giving account to my actions I stretched my hands to it, tried to kiss the smile of universe…and the snowdrops –The first flowers that announce the coming of spring and the new life had awoken with it to realize its dream in winter. Each of them is an apostle of God that gives hope to whole humanity that the prosperous future is ahead.

The first rays of the sun appeared in the dormitory from behind the dark curtains. The darkness of the room bit by bit gave its place to the light. The person lying in the bed opened her light blue eyes, got up from the bed, and approaching the window, opened the curtains and in an instant the room brightened with light.

On the window-sill there stood a vase with flowers among that made a big white rose shine like a crown. Greek nose deeply smelled the scent of various flowers and sighed sadly. All her memories were related to that rose as a child to its mother. Each week she changed the rose for another one, but she did not throw out the old one, instead she dried it and kept in a book. And so for up to seventy years! It was his first present on her birthday, which she refused to accept.

Later, being sorry for it, every week she was buying of the same rose. He was all for her: that tall, slim, brown haired youngster who was even more handsome than God. His correct features, bright, chestnut eyes, straight eyebrows with a scar on the left one made him the most sympathetic person in the whole world. And the smile of the thick lips that she longed for to kiss, that sweet, lovely smile… She had not seen him after their quarrel over the rose, the unique pure symbol of love that parted them forever…

Suddenly the window threw widely open and the wind, wildly waving the curtains, rushed into the room and with it, as if from the depth of centuries, came a clear childish voice that called out her name with all his might:

"Angelica…!"