Once such a spring came when I wanted comfort inside myself. I went through worlds, memories, premonitions and someone’s drafts, and came to this place.
Now behind me are the strict faithful Mountains, and in front of me is Father Forest. At dusk, it seems to me lilac, he doesn’t argue. My House stands on the border of the Forest, and I feel myself in his palms.
With me in the house live a cat Poplar, squirrel and also for tea, mulled wine or lingonberry jam, a variety of creatures come – from the Forest, from the Mountains, from books, from past, present, from different worlds and stories.
Apparently, this is the Crossroads.
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