our faces were shining in a pale silver moonlight. we were both silent, gazing in elation on a moon. i would like to know, what were you thinking about that cold december evening. it was the first time we met and the day before you hadn't even known how I look. we both preferred to live in past, in the old photos and dusty caskets, using escapism as a salvation. probably, we were meant for each other.
that day, you gave me a soft orange tangerine, as a « first-meet gift ». it's peel is still lying in my locker.