The warm sun caresses your face. I sit on a bench and watch my twins swarm nearby. I still mentally call them that. It doesn't matter who is older or younger. It's not about the date of birth, but in this inseparability.

We are in that huge park that is not far from home. Next to Nastya and Mark, Che Guevara, my favorite Comandante, rushes about, bouncing. I love everyone. Love expands the boundaries and makes me open my heart. And no one is cramped in it. And it seems that I find a response in everyone, only my most irreconcilable, most desirable man in the world does not want...