Foothills of Alps
Photos by Andy
Photos by Andy
The fog hides the mystery of parallel worlds.
Something (someone) emerged from the mist. Only ordinary boat?
Hardworking water striders. One is lazy.
There are many boats, waiting for travelers. Where are the travelers?
People look, but they don't see. When someone sees the fifth dimension, they take him to the hospital.
Opening the fanciest gate is not the problem. The problem is taking the next step.
Once a curious sailor arrived to penetrate the Tower of Time. His boat is still waiting for him.
There used to be a stone roof. Then electric wires were pulled under it, and after some time fiber optics. In the end, the cables will be discarded, because everything that needs to be will be in stone again.
"My grandfather jumped that mountain with one flap of his wings."
"Eh, my grandson does it in one swift click."
The garden tea room gradually went wild until it finally petrified.
I got a little twisted, but somehow I'm standing.
And this is my weekend hut.
Banca Popolare... Monastero?
Warmed by the day's sun, the walls in the charming alleys give a false sense of security.
Decomposition is a harbinger of the end, but sometimes it triggers a last paroxysm of fertility.
He was coming at me and wanted to get me in one thrust, so I had to rip his head off.
I understand that with the railing it was an accident, but why else the vase?
An observer would say that here lives a young man (because the shape and type of briefs) who pays little attention to conventions. An investigator would add that he is also an Italian nationalist, an anarchist, an exhibitionist with a penchant for exaggerated hygiene and, well, he has to be careful with money.
On the other side of this water I have a fiancée. It will take some time, but eventually I will reach her.
Amused water.
I've got a gigantic serving of cream, put in an emerald bowl!