Prose: Best

Vasily squatted under a doorway canopy, diligently hiding his face from a pouring rain.

If there are only goats all around you, it's unreasonable to consider yourself an angel

“There is a legend,” the Wiseman smiled, “of the Divine Island, inhabited by singing Angels, where, seemingly, even the time ceases its movement.

“Greeting, people!” Angel smiled.

“And who might you be, we wonder?” they muttered.

Devoted to the Living God…

You say, that God does not exist. And I tell you, that He exists no more exclusively for you.

We are no longer the ones we used to be. Our past burned in the flame of self-rebirth, leaving the place for the Now, which has become a bridge to the Future.

Step. And again. And again. In such minutes every moment becomes the eternity.

Ten steps to scaffold top. Nine. Eight. Seven.

Sir Harold was waiting for his ultimate hour.

Many called ones, yet few exiled