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reads the author Demirina. t was well past midnight and he still couldn't sleep. No more smoking wanted. The ashtray on the kitchen table was full. Count sheep: somehow quite childishly stupid. There were no thoughts. He returned to the bedroom. The subtle, sensual aroma of astringent perfume brought him back to reality. A woman was sleeping on his wide bed, her arms outstretched. In the moonlight, she looked somehow especially solemn. It seemed her luminous body occupied the entire space. He perched on the edge catching himself thinking that it is this lunar glow that turns woman to a stranger. He looked at her tenaciously, in a new way. She looked like a butterfly chrysalis: a pale naked body bound in two places with cherry-coloured satin sheets. He suddenly took an interest in her. He leaned his strong torso almost close. The woman was asleep, but already attracted uncontrollably. He turned his gaze to her narrow fac
