I toss my hair from behind my back and silently examine them. How? How did it happen? A few days ago, I tinted the roots and length with paint taken with me from my world. Why is my hair natural color now? Damn, I ran out of paint.

- Usually, I dye them, - I confess to him, - Apparently, the water washed off the paint, now the hair is of a natural color, the one that nature gave me.

Mark slowly approaches me without taking his eyes off my head.

- "Her hair, the color of ripe wheat in the sunset rays ..." - he mutters, repeating the words...