FALOCHRONY

Evenings with the smell of salt and anxiety. When the sun slowly sinks into the ocean, and with it, all unresolved issues. Footsteps bounce off the bollards, thoughts scatter like seagulls, and inside, there is that feeling that is both painful and beautiful at the same time. Everything seems simple: dance, be silent, don't think. But the body remembers embraces, and the air remembers someone's perfume, and every breath turns into a little déjà vu.

The funny romance of escape: it seems like there is money, even plans - to leave, even if it's just to that hostel by the beach in Miami. But it's impossible to escape memories; they always travel light, without luggage. So it remains - the rhythm, a little chlorine from the pool, wet hair, and the desire to start all over again, while the heart is not yet tired of waiting.