Coffee - in the left hand, the phone – in the right. Jumping on a zebra, and the green pulse in the traffic light window is already winking at you. Here you need a pace, pace, pace - hurry and break, don’t wait and don’t regret. Office, report, coffee, income, office, calculation, coffee, call.
And then you fall asleep. And you see yourself no longer flying, but walking along a quiet, familiar street to tears. You go, and you’re extremely calm. You turn around the corner, sit down in a chair from childhood that is right in the middle of the street. You sit comfortably and silently watch how at the other end of the street an unknown girl sits on a similar armchair. This is your memory. You smile at her. You're good here. Strange, calm and good. Whether a dream or a past is a small part of yourself, and you don’t want to part with it, circling in the vortex of the bustling life of a big city ...