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Tiny Tales of My Times: Chocolates and Books

Tiny Tales of My Times: Chocolates and Books

Sound of harmonica. An empty matchbox on the table. Dogs barking from a distance. A picture of tiger and an ox. Tchaikovsky’s no. six playing loudly on the storey above. ‘Alouette, is that yours?’ Someone asks her, showing a box of wax. ‘Yes.’ She screams, running down the stairs. Opening it, her heartbeat races. She takes a deep breath and stops. ‘Maybe not now.‘ ‘Why not? After all…’ ‘Yeah, why…

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Tiny Tales of My Times: Tea 'Born as a slave of desires, trying to control its own race and everyone else, human being is a funny creature whom even natures laughs at,' 'What do you mean?' Asks Ajith to the tea seller, from the window of the slowly moving bus.

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Tiny Tales of My Times: The View Sitting down on the metallic seat of the train, resting her back on the glass window behind and listening to the faint sound of friction between the wheel and the rail, she looks at her own reflection on the window glass in the front.

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Some of his travels took him to places that surprised him, even thought it had been some time since he started taking pictures of the cities.

A closed road in Trees and Parks

Morning

His Dreams – Trees and Parks (a town) 1 Some of his travels took him to places that surprised him, even thought it had been some time since he started taking pictures of the cities.