Life

In the city of lords

And because faith resembles a florist on San Marco square, stalks of colorful surprises slink from everywhere. Subject to few exciting circumstances and a bouquet of faithful unexpected happenings, since recently I have been living in a land inhabited by lords. So much aristocracy, magic and enigma at one place could rarely be seen in a small city as Edinburgh. Each look outside and every walk (even to the shop) are a splendid binge for the senses, and above all, the worldview.

Smiley passers-by, polite cavaliers, impressive architecture, greenery and order so dynamically power the hormones that the feeling resembles the delirium from pregnancy after the first trimester. And since Edinburgh is an appealing bite among the destinations that Europe offers, I often enjoy the company of close friends from the motherland. My Nevena, with whom we share a paralyzing number of similarities in all possible fields, joined me for few precious days in the city of lords and lordesses (as we call them with half smile and barely perceptible left dimple).

So we explore the city atmosphere in the night clubs and while we absorb the symphony of the local noise, music, enchanting cocktails, men in skirts, women in pants and other interesting trendy decisions, we enthusiastically discuss the topic concerning lords. The theme about the red blood naturally followed our walk to the Edinburgh castle few hours prior that. And because all this turned out to be quite kingly, the faith played its role and offered a not at all prosaic ending of the evening for the two blondes with a taste of few cocktails.

How to meet the real lord if you do not kiss several frogs before that. And here we are – one frog subjugated with a lion’s jump the left infinitely graceful boot of Nevena. A short scream manifesting complete perplexity, which I am pretty sure shook the otherwise peaceful living complex that we inhabit, followed. I do not know whether our neighbors understood that there is a frog in the yard, but they surely as hell understood that Nevena and Maria exist. Awakened by the spell of good alcohol and with quite explicit disappointment, we watched how the frog-non lord leave without any grace inherent to someone of that ancestry and head towards the blossoming bushes in the embrace of the night. Almost like the two of us, who long after this tweeted enthusiastically about this occurrence from the comfort of our soft beds.

 

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