“A Window of Opportunity has just opened before you. What are you going to do about it?”
Busola = « Instrument alcatuit dintr-un cadran si un ac magnetic mobil care, lasat liber, se asaza pe directia nord-sud ».
Cine isi pierde busola isi pierde dreapta judecata, simtul masurii. Se zapaceste.
“Your heart is broken” I tried again, “would you like another one?”
Suddenly, one of his fins seemed to have bumped into a slippery surface. There was something rounded, something one could not get too attached to, something that felt like…glass?…
Sa mère était comme une citadelle: forte et difficile à conquérir.
“D’accord…”, fit-il presque convaincu, “je viens…”
Elle prit son courage et se laissa porter par le vent doux sur le bout de la chaussure droite. L’homme la vit et se pencha discrètement pour ne pas la perdre.
They don’t. I mean not in a direct way, to be more specific. There is no obvious connection between the fruit and this form of expression.
We can use the plums as a pretext for today and take them as a reference point for asking open questions.
Have you ever tried to change your image by changing your appearance in some way? Most probably you have. People are sensitive about appearance and too often ready to make judgements according to what they can see with their eyes.
“Bonjour…” la voix de Jules est devenue moins forte quand il vit la petite main et les yeux chauds d’une couleur si incroyable, surnaturelle même, qu’il connaissait si bien.
A language. Words. Sounds. It’s what binds us. What differentiates the music we play in our brains when we think. It’s what colours the dramatic existence of our emotions.