obraz dariusza zawadzkiego.

In a poor district near Lima a young man steps out of his home- a tiny house with a plastic roof. He looks up at the early morning sky. Another day with no sunshine. The weather has been terrible recently. He can't remember the last time he saw the sun. Heavy grey clouds fill the sky and his heart feels cold with sadness. There's no sunshine when she's gone, he thinks. There's only darkness every day. And she hasn't called for so long. He wonders if she's gone for ever. He tries to imagine life without her. [...] He misses her smile, her voice, the songs she sings even when things look black. And he knows she loves him. But why hasn't she called? Perhaps she's forgotten them. Perhaps she's decided to stay there. Perhaps she's found someone else. He feels like crying, but he can't. Not in front of the children. [...]

Suddenly, a ray of sunshine breaks through the clouds and lights up the doorway just as Veronica steps through the door. He feels the warm sun on his back. The little girl has just woken up and is rubbing sleep from her eyes. She looks so like her mother. She yawns and hears her mother's voice. He hears his name, 'Nacho! Nacho!' Is Veronica speaking? Behind him he hears footsteps. He turns round. The sun is too bright and he can't see clearly. He puts his hand up to his eyes, and then thinks, 'I haven't woken up! I'm still dreaming!' But then Veronica shouts out, 'Mama!' And he knows that sometimes dreams come true.

znalezione w podręczniku ;]

w weekend ostra impreza.

aż w głowie mi się je.bie ;p