A rainy autumn day. You're quickly walking down a familiar street that steeply descends towards the embankment. It's barely noon, yet wine glasses already clinking in the corner bar – elderly folks loudly arguing about yesterday's match. A group of couriers speeds by on mopeds, honking and gesturing at cars at the intersection. Your long black hair, hoodie, and tote bag with textbooks are decently soaked. Whatever! Those thirty minutes of awkward hugs and shy kisses by the entrance door were worth it. Dios mío, the whole neighborhood probably saw it! In front of the «Carrefour», teenagers have gathered – eagerly munching on pastries, begging passersby for cigarettes. Near the vegetable stand, a petite dry woman watching a young curly-haired loader, looking like an ancient statue, unloads crates of artichokes. Suddenly, you decide to look up at the grey sky, cold raindrops falling on your face. How wonderful! Just as wonderful as it feels when you listening to nastya mira's mix for 5/8: radio.
