That's gripping what you said and I'm trying to imagine your expression when you’re thinking about these things…
In my opinion one is what he has lived, if it's clear what I mean, this is life and for what I’ve understood yours must have been quite advanced. Now I'm more curios than loaded so don't worry.
I meet a lot of people from all over the world for work, and I perceive sort of… "skin feeling". Most of the time that helps me a lot recognize who I have in front of me. On that plane I saw a very solar person that surprised me with her simplicity. For me the most important virtues are honesty and respect, rare things to find.
I've read your email more and more, and still thousands of questions may
appear but too many to be written or a multitude where just an expression
could answer better than hundreds of words. I’m really dreaming to meet you one day, a glass of good wine and a talk looking into your eyes. Do you think it could be possible?
I'm a very patient and quite person, not afraid to go ahead if I
really crave for something (I think the precise words are “as stubborn as a mule”?!?!?)
Normally, I do not have to ponder over it, it comes naturally: if
there is something that I do not like in a person, "distance" comes out
automatically. Considering how much I like talking with you (even if sometimes I will be
incomprehensible…) it shouldn't be your case…
Ps I’m quite old-fashioned and ask my friends to send me postcards from the countries where they travel. Could you do it too? »
The address was attached below.
She was reading it again and again, while the boss was standing behind the window waving impatiently his hand with a huge golden ring signing they had to hurry up. She nodded and went out. Boss asked something but the girl didn’t hear – her thoughts were too far. She bought a few postcards on the way, planning to ask a concierge to send them to Italy.
They went straight to the address where the first meeting was. Margot was destroyed from the trip, but three cups of coffee recharged the brain. Meetings were non-stop all day. The interpreter’s tongue seemed not hers anymore. But every business partner seeing the blonde tried to speak up more than necessary trying to socialize and spend some more time beside the beauty. She was going to burst, but didn’t, trying to remember how much she is paid and other bright sides of the job.
Geneva was beautiful: a huge lake in the middle and fine architecture with old buildings and monuments, a chain of restaurants on the shore, and a great deal of bazaar-shops and expensive jewelry stores with rings and necklaces of all possible kinds and coloures of brilliants and other valuable stones, shining under the sun beams.
Hanging around, she bought a red scarf and picked up the most fashionable restaurant: “I definitely deserve it!”.
Snowy-white tablecloth, Pinot Noir , an amazing view of the lake from the panoramic window, palatable food. “I love Switzerland!”: the blonde felt on top of the world, roaming about sun lighted streets in her favorite red leather jacket.
Few days later she returned to Russia, cold and gloomy at that time of the year. “Mendeleyev must have invented vodka in the end of November”: she thought, trying to warm her hands breathing at them desperately while waiting for the taxi at Sheremetievo airport.
