Mozart in the fog

Read about someone"s childhood is the same as watching children"s drawings.
A lot similar. The drawing itself is somewhat similar. Color. And then an unexpected turn occurs, and life reveals the canvas. It reveals differently, but there is something that everyone is familiar with genetically and therefore once not now and not today. There is different childhood, but in the essence of the days the same.
While I read these personal, acquaintances, like raw air in St. Petersburg, stories, it turned out that they were lived by me once. Delicate, not angry, about life in which pauses and tension. Repetitions, like in Rondo. And music, music ... You find yourself in music as the highest of the arts. Olga Yavich