inspired by sweet kvitka

kyiv, ukraine

Morning rhapsody. The first ray of the sun did not touch her. It crept along the sheets and hid in the shade of the bed. Then a second and third ray appeared. In turn, they knocked on the white frame of the closed window and, without waiting for it to open, they slipped into the room. Others, coming behind them, are no longer cautious, but push brazenly ahead, flooding everything they touch with a new light. Now they reach out to her closed eyes, tender cheeks, pink swollen lips. "She is still quite young. She will play with us. " Feeling the slight heat, the girl’s eyelashes fluttered lightly and then closed again. It would be better to stay where she was, in a world where sunshine did not enter; where tones and half-sounds dominated.