Standing in the back of room 29, I am looking at Ilya resting.
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| ИЛьЯ \ ILYA |
I get curious, so I walk around these several beds on my way
-the spring sun creaks almost-
kneeing down I glare at Ilya again.
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| ИЛьЯ \ ILYA, 180° |
On that day (03-APR) everything was possible:
One looked to the right, only to see a burning sun scathing through clean air. One then looked left,
to be struck by many snow flakes hesitantly gliding with their fingers crossed & a glamorous grey cloud wishing them a last farewell. I could literally walk that very threshold.
And we all stared at each other staring at just that.
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