Once Christina appeared in my life. Girl that lived in a house at the end of our street. It was quite ordinary. We went for a drive on swings, and then she looked in my side and asked what my name is. She is strange enough, and always carries one red thing though.
She is marvellous. She always looks at me with a smile, and even in the deepest abyss will find the silvery ray of hope.
She very loves a winter, then she carries the favourite red overcoat. She is amused by that, when snowflakes touch her snow-white person.
She is wonderful, and a shy whisper is audible even in her breathing