Próza - Povídky & Drabbles
She danced. Rain was falling down in heavy drops, cool and smooth. Her shoes clacked on the stones of Parisian streets as she moved in wide circles of her solitary waltz, splashing water around with every step. The sky was an endless streak of grey, the city a Picasso painting of wildly misshapen forms. She heard music in the air, sad and melancholy like the melodies of les musiciennes at the riverside of the Seine.
She didn’t see the car coming. It crashed into her, taking her down in the middle of a pirouette. Her world turned crimson, then black.