Sole ...

Sole (although, in fact, quite a lot of them) ... DEDICATED

stand and wait ...

Waiting in anticipation ...

And around the face, face, face ... intricate muttering curses, jubilant,imploring celebrating its small and large victories, complaining, begging, threatening, rejoice - the voices around.

And I'm waiting ...

Although not forget to nod, smile happily or sadly, recognizing all the imperfection of the world, to accept or ignore, conversation or keep quiet, expressing emotions "face", grieve or rejoice, intuitively guessing mood counterpart, butin fact no one heard because ...

I'm waiting ...

Silver muted rustle of music envelops, mixing everything together.

scattered light softens angles, brightness, color and make-up so that you can fall into a light trance, like a long time stared at the impressionist painting.

But the stranger's hand, as always, suddenly, on my shoulder."Cotton" - all of the benefits ...

short walk and fall into a chair, drink coffee, to escape.Still, enough or

not?Interesting.

I go back and wonder: what if he's already there?Through the open door, accidentally I meet eyes with Himself and I understand that he has not yet come, and that he himself also is waiting.So I'm not alone in my anticipation.It's nice and surprising that someone more devoted, and so involved.

And around the same lazy vanity: the views, the music, the clink of glasses, light ... God, how well that none of them are telepaths ...

We have to work, about anything without thinking of outsiders, no matter what, without distraction, This is not aindifference, this automatism many times repetitive movements.In standby.And suddenly, out of the many voices I hear the characteristic overtones.It is he.All

like inner spring, straightened, throws me into reality.As everything here is bright and festive, it turns out.

He hesitates, but I know.What he is exactly right to me, bypassing others.After all, between us for a long time for some crazy confrontation and we are only in the hall, someone understands what's really going on some action that separates us and unites at the same time as a strange fancy dance, although we are "on opposite sides of the barricades."

It's just a game for me and for him.And absolutely no matter who wins, who loses.Because both losing and winning creates hope we meet again in any case.The circle is closed, because the process itself is important.

Well good luck!Your bet, Mr. Perfect Player!

your old dealer