Rather weird habit has appeared in Theodor's lifestyle recently – freely waste his time on wet streets, anatomizing feelings. The process is so simple: drop by drop, you should shed attention on the object, place it in the very focus. Soon, just after a few moments, the entire experience will transform in ugly, not worthed a pin, cause-motive.
The same way for melancholy and gladness, for bitterness and delight — very different aspirations submissively go under the knife. And everyone reveal – it can't be considered neither merited nor beautiful nor at least normal... But sometimes even this razor falls out: love, sympathy and passion struggle fervently, hide in the irrationality. Theodor used to shiver logic on it with vindictive joy... He satisfies with it's consequences and surroundings decomposition.
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Theodor sits in his armchair and smokes. Tiresome shades was throwed off – the slightly teared cord's tassel swings. Wet air spreads over the room and mixes the smell of musty leafs with tobacco smoke. The ashberry blazes among the gold maples and chestnuts far, far away... Theodor sips it's acerbic flavour. He truly fells lust for autumn.
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