SelfPub: remnants of summer on our...

There is something subtly beautiful in August. As if honey spreads, buckwheat, with bitterness. It hurts a little in my heart. It's always hard to let go of all the good things and you don't know what's next, beyond the September 1 turn. The last warm evenings are even more expensive, more precious, and soon lightness, eccentricity, naivety will give way to autumn sedateness. Enjoy live!