Character: Dasha

The betrayer will one day betray again.

The wall between people is not the worst obstacle. At least it can be destroyed. But if there is a person between people, will it be possible to destroy him?

- We stand on that. This is our strength!

- Highly. Once upon a time there was a white fluffy kitten. Lived - lived, and dumped white fluffy poop. The wind blew, and poop scattered on the ground. And whoever this white fluffy poop fell on became happy.

- Grandpa, what is a "soapy"?
- E-mail. Fast means.
Why?
Because according to an email takes a couple of seconds, and if the old antediluvian, there Radishchev, from Petersburg to Moscow...

- Ol, you're a lesbian?
- No. Do not have to be a lesbian in order to love someone.

- Beautiful! You never want in men?
- Yes somehow did not think.
- Open spaces, wave, albatrosses...
That would be cool to go somewhere to float without limit.
Oh, sorry, that work - not for women.

What are you in this night lost?
The dreams that you dream of?
You shall again be with someone to meet,
Again you die late...

See the light in the topmost window? -
He is the author of crazy symphonies.
On paper the dreams he buries
But during the day he stay there.
And laughing at us sunrise,
And mocks us the moon,
And someone gives us one more year
And again we will spoil the spring...

The branch trembled, a leaf trembled
It's someone on the street wandering,
It's someone your dream it is not
It was someone from a dream escaped...
And laughing at us sunrise,
And mocks us the moon,
And someone gives us one more year
And again we will spoil the spring...

All tired! I want... I Want like that boring and uninteresting.

Fool you, Yasha, you fool! And ears cool.

She learned to guess and, after drinking coffee, overturned the Cup, giving the coffee grounds to drain, then looked at her. Readings of coffee grounds she was compared with the paintings of their dreams, connecting them mentally to highlight the curve of fate.
- Quite often lose something, will, - with a sigh, she said, after divination.
Readings of coffee grounds, secured by the dreams really came true, because in life something always happens.

- It's just Shawarma, - said Denis.
Is the best proof of God's existence! exclaimed Eugene. I don't believe that the average person could create such beauty.
Dasha laughed.
- Zhenya, why are you eating the evidence? - she asked, smiling slyly. - How do we sinners now?
Jack shrugged and leaned back in his chair. Took a couple of seconds before he was able to squeeze out a word.
- There in front of the case full stall such evidence - he said, - all atheists enough. Why do you think Dawkins is such a categorical? Maybe he just Shawarma was not normal.
Well, for many people it is an actual philosophy, and the iron argument - laughed Dennis, - if the Shawarma is individualized by the Creator, that is, it and everything in the world, and the whole world in particular. I love these people who spend a parallel between the Universe and Shawarma.