Piotr Mrok

Screeching gulls are hanging over the ocean, which seems so bent on subduing the beach. I'm laying on the sand, but at the same time - I walk the avenues of dreams. I smell the moist scent of fish, and I feel the sweet certainty, that at last, I govern over my own freedom. I know where I stand and I am afraid no longer. I have burnt my yesterday - and the future is now.