Soothing symphonies, lasting love and homemade breakfasts.

You decide, and let me know. A part of me believes that the origin of every story is a peripheral situation that could have gone a million different ways, but the universe decided to conspire against sanity and blew wind in a direction so steep, that once you walk, there is no moving forward, only rolling backwards.

There is a clock that moves according to nobody, it sets its own pace, hours and minutes...