Few of the most
beautiful moments in life are caused by not those who had lived the longest
with us, by not those who are the dearest to us, by not those who are the most
loved by us, by not the most expensive gift, by not the most obsessed
possession, by not the most timely occurrence, but; they would have disturbed
our lives, touched our moments, graced our dreams and flown past us like a
detached feather rendering our thoughts into an agitated nostalgia. Like that;
she came, she went; writing on the pages my life few of the most beautiful visuals…
