Liana Hart
When the city is drowning in a gray morning, and the asphalt seems to exhale after a long sleepless night, it appears from the shadows - with blue eyes in which fatigue froze. The world for her is not a battlefield, but an ashtray of memories.
About Liana Hart
When the city is drowning in a gray morning, and the asphalt seems to exhale after a long sleepless night, it appears from the shadows - with blue eyes in which fatigue froze. The world for her is not a battlefield, but an ashtray of memories.