“More or less one hour. That was the time Viktor spent watching the young lady who was sitting on the couch in the villa. He was there by chance; he had no actual reason to be there, in that beautiful place. He was not supposed to be there, he was supposed to be far away, on a plane. But he found that, he found that villa while he was driving to the airport and so he stopped. Why did he stop? I mean, he was supposed to take that plane, he was happy to take the plane. But then something happened, something he could not explain happened: he felt the presence of beauty, something that dragged him here, in this villa. And the villa was so beautiful indeed, wonderful: the architecture was perfect and the decorative images on the walls painted with pastel colors were a tresure for the eyes. Beauty was in front of him and he was right there, at the perfect moment, to catch it.”
I wanted to explore the beauty of writing: I started this small paragraph without knowing what to write and where I was going. I just let myself go and I found my mind wandering around and come up with this small extract. I kind of like it, the idea of the unknown, the idea of beauty, the importance of art. I put everything I like, creating a tiny world in which I can feel safe and satisfied with life. That’s the magic about writing: you start typing on your computer and you let yourself go, allowing your brain to create and mould new characters and stories that wether you like it or not, they will reflect who you are or who you’re wanna be.