Škirot pēc

Tag: Suicide Squad in Spain


Climb Forest, Climb

You can hear somewhere near the sound of water reflecting the surface of the showers curtains and just by hearing you can envision how the whole, small bathroom is filled with steam and mist trapping the light beams that was previously traveling through the dirty glass. Aroma of freshly boiled coffee fills the room with memory splashes that forces you to get homesick again, and sunlight allied with the warmest winters breeze are tickling your skin and freckles like never before, and, and the clock stopped ticking kindly helping you to forget about non-relevant things in your life and, and, and, also – Cause nobody gave a fuck about what time it was.