He stared at that liquid in his glass. "A" sat behind it's reflection. He peered deep into her chrysanthemum pupils. His true reality is now hallucination and voices in his mangled world... He had been amazed at her ability to savor the stollen sweetness of love, the pleasure gleamed from between the cracks of this floating life...
Sipping his whiskey, he realized that, right now "A" had neither the opportunity nor the time... She was pursuing the chance for a home... How could he blame her for wanting her own few square meters of living space?
By this time I was thinking that fate had not treated me badly after all, and i was almost capable of believing that I had been turned into something good...
I took her kiss to be my real rehabilitation. I knew, in those days that she had reasons for doing what ever she had to do. So later, I understood my calm when another man answered the phone.
