Barefoot on warm parquet. Quietly, so as not to disturb the morning sleep of relatives. Enjoying every moment of anticipation.
Step two, a light touch on the translucent veil of the curtain – and here is the city below you.
With his fuss, ambitions, passions, desires, aspirations.
With the eternal bend of the Dnieper, the green cover of parks, the golden domes of the Lavra.
Touch the handle of a French window, open a wide opening covered with a light balustrade. This city is yours. He is at your feet, you absorb his strength, power, energy.
Golden flashes do not end anywhere. They delicately accompany you in the subtle patterns of massive doors and lamps. And they habitually stun with the Versailles splendor of the bathroom: they flow from the walls to the ceiling, are reflected in the mirrors, play in the drops of water.
On the terrace leaving the kitchen-dining room, morning coffee with a taste of the metropolitan panorama is especially hot and strong. Ahead is a day filled with worries, meetings, conversations, plans. And the exact knowledge of exactly how this day will end.
… A light rustle of a golden veil, and again a languishing, long-awaited moment of delight from the endless scattering of evening Kiev lights. You are at home. You can fold your wings in anticipation of a new day with golden highlights.