The work aims to evoke in the reader strong emotional experiences, a feeling of existential anxiety and depression. Such work is characterized by depressive motives and most often focuses on the emotional or physical suffering of the characters.
In the shadow of a starry evening, when the heavens were blooming with azure, there lived a lonely black magician. His name has been forgotten for centuries, like old lines in forgotten books. Wisdom and kindness were hidden in his heart, but his gifts were wrapped in black magic.
At the tips of the star thread, where darkness meets light, hovers the memory of an old steam locomotive, whose dreams were woven into the haze of the past. This steel giant was the living heart of the railways, and its steam legends left a shadow on the platform of time.
In a small room, sunk in semi-darkness, there was an antique table. On it, as if forgotten by the artist, lay a diary of dreams. Its cover, worn by time, was like the evening sky, tinged with shades of lilac and indigo. Everything mysterious and mysterious was hidden behind thick pages, as if in the very depths of the night sky.
In a dark corner of the city, where the rain was weaving thin threads of its jets, three entities met – a man, a robot and a demon. The evening was like a gathering of shadows, but it was in this darkness that the luminaries of fate lit up.
In ancient times, in the innermost corners of the soul of each of us, there is a mysterious garden – a world of flowers that, like stars in the night sky, bloom in moments of joy and fade in a moment of heavy grief. And so, in this garden of an ordinary person hovering in everyday life, rainbow petals bloomed and the aromas of happiness appeared, but, as in everyone's life, it was time for rain.
On the edge of the twilight pool, where the heavens lie on the earth, there lived an old philosopher. In his house, built of faded stars and ancient memories, time flowed slowly, like a viscous river of melancholy. There was a look in his eyes, like stars in the night sky, squeezed between the fingers of time.
On the outskirts of a quiet village stood an old blacksmith shop, like a forgotten page in the book of time. Its walls, upholstered with slabs of tarnished metal, seemed to keep the secrets of the past terrible days. Once upon a time, metal slicing the air sounded in this iron heart, like the melody of an ancient bard, sparkling and flashing like stars in the night sky.
He looks down. He looks down. These two live at different levels, and the difference is a meter. Why, then, does he seem to be able to see a naked soul in front of him? The soul of a stranger without a gleam in his eye. The wind freezes thin cheekbones, and eyelids in blue don't close. There is no time to even blink. They met each other, among passers-by in silence, beyond the horizon of the largest ocean, after three myriads. At an expensive boutique, somewhere behind a cafe. Under the amethyst
In the shadow of a forgotten time, under the mossy roofs of ancient memories, there lived one story. It began as a light breeze playing with the mottled leaves of autumn. But in this invisible fabric of fate there was something more mysterious than just a fleeting breath.
In the darkness of the endless forests, immersed in the evening silence, a tree grew, whose fate was pierced by secrets and pains, as if black needles penetrated its bark. It was an ash tree, covered with a layer of pollen of lost dreams.
"Where are you from..." Day was interrupted immediately, not being able to finish his thought.
"If you haven't forgotten, I am a future mafia boss and I have the ability to track the geolocation of anyone. Almost anyone." at the last sentence, Moriyama's voice cracked, although it was difficult to understand it, but Kevin has known the young Gentleman too long and well to distinguish any changes in his speech.
"Good. I'll call you when I talk to him and take him to my place."
Tails realizes that no one needs him anymore and has become useless to all his friends. He decides to leave, but not before accidentally leaving his diary behind.
Hiro just wanted to make sure everyone gets out from the Akuma island before it blows up. And that's all it took to make things go terribly wrong for him and the rest of the heroes.
The Devil existed. That much has been known to the people of No Man’s Land for a very long time. Perhaps, some people have even known since The Big Fall itself.
The Devil existed, David knew as much. Has known for a very long time, though he wouldn’t tell you for how long exactly if you asked him. He’d long lost the track of time.
The Devil existed. David has been running away from him his entire life.
The Devil existed... for now.
Because now Lucy wanted to make him pay.
But Bloom doesn't believe in fairy tales.
And into good fairies, and into princes on white horses. So down to earth, not at all romantic. Neither father nor mother.
Or how Bloom didn't become a fairy.
