Девочка солнце

Rain pattering on the rooftops, and somewhere between the raindrops she walks by - the one in the light summer dress, with sunshine instead of perfume. The world seems to stop for a couple of seconds, while the heart beats to the rhythm of the tram bell. Everything is simple, a little naive and painfully vivid: love is born not at balls, but at wet bus stops.

This moment is like summer rain: sudden, fresh, a little silly, but so real that you want to stand under it and not hide. There are no loud words here, only glances, music and the feeling that even the tram knows that something important has begun.