Viche 2014 1

1, 2014

Lend me, my friend, a willing hand

Taras didnt have close friends in his boyhood days. He was not like all the others, grew another person, who was not understandable. The boy was called hooligan, an intractable child, and he, the whyer, from the cradle, asked: And what is after the mountain?. Everybody kept silence, thats why he answered himself: There should be iron pillars supporting the sky. And he was trying to reach them. He was wandering in the heath, admiring the flowers, listening to the wide and to his soul.