( MARCEL )
Life can turn one hundred and eighty degrees in one second. The lone wolf builds high walls around his feelings. Now, like a cowardly sheep standing in the night. The cool evening wind was teasing my dark hair, the needles of cold seemed to creep under my skin, causing unpleasant chills. A pebble between the fingers, a hand floating lightly in the air, the trajectory a metal sill. Another quiet click in the dark night. Silhouetted against the light of the window, the curtains parted, and then my gaze fell upon her.
Camilla Heins, the woman who raises so many questions. The wolf inside me jumped without stopping, wanting to touch her as soon as possible, to smell her scent, to feel her soft lips. Had fate become merciful? After seven years of loneliness, a blonde angel was sent
