Story

1. A blue chronometershinesoverthe table, farawaythe lake isalmosttimeless.
Are you goingto listenthatsongina repeatsequence how more times?Someoneasktothe
boysittingoverthe leftside of the table.
The soundwas deepandhigh.
That soundislike a storm to me,the boysay that.
What do youknowabout the storm?Pronounce the boylookingbothhandswhile the words
appearin disorder.
The soundswhere beenmore andmore intense andthe blue lightwasstill socalmandcold at
the same time nearthe boy.
I thinkrightnowin the essence of astorm. Do you ever?
The soundsappearslike alittle ribbonsgoingbylandscapes.
I Love climaticimpressions,was the boy appreciation.
A little bitof silence show the potencyof the blue lightandall the livingseemslike abig
swimmingpool.
Want to know whatI thinkabout the storm?Says the boypullingbackhisbodyup to the ends
of the table andlookingwithconcentrationthe bluelight,soclose now.
Somethinginthe systemof the lightmayworkinstrong waybecause a noise like asighwas
increasingandthe amazingblue became strange inthe window.Some starswhere outside
that night,almostbutnot a cloudysky.
I thinkislike aswimmingpool inabeautiful windyday.
The pool metaphorisgood and the blue chronometerdecorationtoo, affirmedthe otherboy
openingof the window,suddenly the magicreflection.
The freshair starts to change all inthe roomand the boy wholikesthe musicof the beginning,
pushout of the table,walkbydampfloortile andgetsome coldwater,the fridge isa mixture
metal piece andinthe top are some dryflowersthathave nosense inthe core of the beauty.
The air is a fresh,saysthe boy infrontof the openwindow