Anastasia Romanov
But the beauty of the bright spring sunshine, rejoiced with blossoms and the song of birds, brought nostalgia to my heart.
I brushed another paint stroke against the canvas. Purple was my favorite color, but now I had grown to love red. Red was vibrant and strong. Red was the color of blood and life.
In the garden under the spring sun, the portrait was taking shape, a beautiful shape of a woman I loved and longed for every day.
By habit, I reached for my sherry decanter on the table, yet I didn't thirst for the crimson content. The pills must be working. Arkady and Damir had introduced me to their new breakthrough.