Every morning, I open eyes, I brush away from eyelashes all not dreamed dreams, I dress a pale leather in powder and I put on eyelashes the coming day.
Then, these minutes it seems to me, as if together with powder, absolutely slightly, it is almost invisible, all my time which has not come yet is showered. I look back in the present and it seems, as if there there was no anything greater, than my reflection in a mirror and mixed with a lace of a dust not dreamed dreams,to habit, looking and in each next morning.