Max Frye. My Ragnarok (№ 127660)

But - perhaps this is one of the laws scoffer nature! - the less enthusiasm you cause all of humanity in General, the greater the chances of a total stranger to touch a mysterious, thin, painfully striking the right chord in your heart. Enough of nothing: suddenly a desperate smile, turning the head in which the face of random conversation then for a moment becomes an angel face, warm hands, trustingly clutching in the dark in your own hand, Golden sparks of merry madness that rocks the dark swamp dull eyes - and you suddenly realize that you would do anything just to inhale his real life in this amazing, alien creature, and then deploy it face up to the sky and ask, breathless with reverence for the accomplished miracle: "well, now do you see?"