First time driving a car…


The steering wheel felt smooth and round – just as I imagined it would be. The world from behind the windscreen looked different, more rectangular and narrow. I locked my eyes on the dashboard trying to comprehend all the little buttons, pointers, numbers and lines. I checked the mirror and for a brief second I looked myself in the eye. Looking back at me was a very nervous and tense person.

I placed my hand on the gear shift, trying to feel it and get more familiar with this device. I positioned my feet carefully on the pedals. I repeated, for maybe a hundred time, the mantra which pedal is the break which is the accelerator and which is the clutch. I strapped the safety belt, which oddly felt like a bizarre imprisoning contraption.

I took deep breaths trying to calm myself. I assured myself that I could and would do it. That I would succeed and nothing bad can possibly happen.

The landscape before me was, thankfully, empty and inhabited.  Technically I could do no harm to anyone so why did I feel this irrational fear? Who knows. I should just push the accelerator pedal and get the car going. The push I needed, to make that one last step came from the passenger’s seat. My friend, who was incidentally my first “driving instructor” looked at me calmly and said “You tackled much worse things than starting and driving a car so don’t act scared now and just do it”.

I could do nothing else but that. That feeling when the machine of steel and glass moves according to your wishes is priceless. I am glad that I made that first step. I am thankful for the push that made me do it.

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The worst physical pain…


That kind of pain accompanied the very unfortunate twisting of my left ankle.

I was chatting happily and going down the stairs, too carelessly apparently, when the accident happened. I suddenly felt sharp pain in my left ankle. The excruciating pain was quickly spreading and in an instant I felt that I was losing breath. I was in shock and totally panicked. The deafening sound of my own voice echoed in the stairway of an old tenement. I was swearing like an old sailor and soon I ran out of breath. My throat felt like it was full of dry sand and I gulped breaths in short intakes. My vision blurred and black spots begun to dance in front of my eyes. I was rapidly spiraling toward fainting, which would be rather painful given that the floor of the stairway was basically made of uneven cement.  I clumsily grabbed at the rough walls trying to ease myself into a sitting position. I felt cold floor and then my vision was turned off, much like you turn off the old TV. The picture folded into smaller and smaller round dot. The last thing I remember is the musty, damp smell of a decrepit tenement.

Oh, did I mention that the stairs had only about two steps? Talk about bad luck…

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The smell of food…


It’s not my favorite food but it was the first thing that came to my mind when I thought about food and the first meal I have every morning – coffee.

Up until this past two months I did not really drink coffee regularly. I didn’t particularly like it and preferred green tea to it. I usually started my day with a cup of tea. It was enough for me. But then my roommate started brewing really yummy and aromatic coffee. I started sipping the dark brew, first gingerly then a little more bravely and finally I started my day with a cup of delicious coffee served with a generous dash of milk.

Now about the smell. How my coffee smells? Well to put it bluntly like a regular coffee, simple as that. But when I close my eyes I see sunny mornings, me on my balcony, enjoying the drink and slowly easing into the rush of a new day. I sit on a windowsill and enjoy the panoramic view of the city, as seen from the 15th floor. I see vast sky with planes slowly crossing the blue, I see high office building in which working day is about to begin. I admire the architecture of my city and sip my coffee slowly, taking in all the aroma and unique taste.

I think that the smell is similar to the taste. In this case, the coffee tastes and smells like a brand new day with lots of happy coincidences and many opportunities.

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The texture of clothes…


It’s a plain plaid shirt that softly rests on the skin, softly molding in each crest and crane made by the body.

It’s a rather soft material, nice and pleasant in touch. At the cuffs and elbows it is slightly rumbled and worn off from the frequent use. The collar could be more straight and proper.

The matching flannel pajama trousers are also soft and somewhat worn off around the knee part. The trouser legs are rolled up because the size of the trousers is tad too big. The material gently envelops my legs and keeps them warm.

Fluffy, soft beige socks complement the whole outfit quite nicely.

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Without the sense of sight…


This is kind of a double assignment for me because I work in two different places but do the same job.

Variant #1

I hear children laughing and dogs barking happily. I hear pigeons rustling their feathers and cooing while courting each other. With each sigh of the wind a soft air brushes my face. In the air I can smell the scent of freshly ground coffee. I can feel the laptop keyboard underneath my fingers. I hear the mobile phone ringing.

I open my eyes and see my cozy room and a monochromatic picture of a zebra staring straight at me.

Variant #2

I hear people talking, bustling, rushed voices, yells. I sense people passing by swiftly. I smell freshly bought sandwiches and hear the rustle made by the hands clumsily unwrapping the paper. I smell strong coffee mixed with herbal and fruit tea scent. I hear the monotonous drone of air conditioning and feel ice cold air hit the back of my head. I pop earplugs and turn on my music list. I hear the beats and rhythm of the first song on the list.

I open my eyes and see an open space office and a pin-up board full of my doodles.

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When the moon meets the sea…


The shimmer was mesmerizing. All world seemed to be captivated in this delicate moment. The mother of all nocturnal creatures, the goddess of white orb – the Moon, was rising above the calm surface of the sea. The perfectly round cold light illuminated the water in an otherworldly way. We stood there captivated, the moment forever etched in our hearts and minds.

That fleeting moment when the moon meets the sea.  When all creation appears to be basked in the illuminating powers of the silver crescent.

The moon looks over the globe with cold indifference. Unaware of being a source of such awe. A silent spectator to our nightly prowling. The witness to all.

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