He was like sparkling bubbles, being stared from Michelangelo Square, mixed with the humid yet dry smell of Arno river, with sober yet drunk taste of blushing alcohol, floating over the red cupola of Florence Cathedral in either dark morning or dazzling night.

Bubbles broke. It became in the end soap water.

Shining soap water, but just soap water.

Because of knee injury while hiking I have been on sick leave for one week already.

I limped last night in the rain to the pizza imbiss downstairs, only for a cola which costs 2,5 euro for 1L. My neighbor who was having cigarette break at the entrance had to hold the door for me. It was not the first time I did so – cannot help myself buy a bottle of cold cola at late night only to solve my thirst problem in an optimal way.

My friends can’t understand why I’m so obsessed to cola. The same as most of them do not understand why I am so obsessed to a certain of life style.

It’s maybe, I assume, just because like opium in cola or opium in the air of freedom.