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Read me

Viviana was dancing in the middle of the floor, for the benefit of all, but her eyes were on me. At the centre of my brain there was a little she-gnome, conceived purely by my own enchanted imagination, around which was slowly forming an envelope of love, of falling-in-love-ness, and this she-gnome was dancing to the rhythm of Viviana’s swaying. I was like a little boy watching the movements of his mother, suffocated by veneration...

 

 
Theodosie cel Mic
Litera din scrisoarea misterioasa
 Victimele inocente si colaterale ale unui singeros razboi cu Rusia
Pata violeta
Negru si rosu
Amortire
Dilar pentru o zi
Urbancolia
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