# data[].attributes.attachment_link.readable_text
It was a bright cold day in April , and the clocks were striking thirteen. I was sitting in a coffee shop on Baker Street, drinking a gingerbread latte, and looking at passers-by hurrying. Absolutely everything seemed so quick that I didn't notice how it became dark . "A mad rhythm of the obnoxious city", I thought lazily and went outside. Despite the cold in the morning, the evening was surprisingly warm. There were less people outside, and nobody was in haste. The city was reviving. Everyone was in a hurry to go home, someone in a restaurant ,someone to the cinema. I walked slowly along the main street of this romantic city. There were lights all around, hot and fragrant cinnamon rolls and live music. This city has captured me completely. I'm not inside of it, and it's in me. I was part of something big and beautiful. It warmed my heart. Love for the city... is that possible? The thought swept me again, but not for long. By the time I got to Montmantre Street, where agreed on a meeting with my old friend. His name was George.We met on the second course. Sassy was weird and seductive.

That's how I thought of him the first time I saw him. But we're still friends. He was waiting for me by the window with some sort of simultaneously excited and enthusiastic expression. At the moment, he worked for a major clothing design company. I ordered a drink and began to listen to him attentively.

He spoke vaguely and slightly stammering, and finally said "Today for lunch I proposed to Charlotte". "Poor George", - I thought. The third marriage in his life and the third time he said that she was the one he had dreamed of. Despite the complexity of his character, the girls loved him. And he was never neglected. Naivety is the second name of George. For all my love for him, he never listened to any advice and naively believed each of his beloved. A hopeless romantic...So it is affectionately called among friends.

Everyone knew about his trustworthiness, but no one wanted to change it in him. Everyone loved him.I loved him. And yet I wanted him to be happy. Night has come, we laughed and drank Chardonnay 78. We were talking about student life all night through and sometimes slight sadness covered us both. It has been three years since graduation and as you could have already understood, George hasn't become a journalist. He has never been interested in it, but the strict nature of his loved ones and the standards of the time insisted on the opposite. Hostage society...That it was impossible to say about me . Since childhood I have been attracted to poems, various philosophical articles and novels. Then I thought this is child's play to pass the free time. But years later I realized that I could not live without it. After a bottle of wine, and long conversations about, we said goodbye and I got in a taxi.

On the way I thought about the twist of fate, about people, about relationships. We turned on the Street Avenue, where was my small but cozy apartment. I was always attracted to the beautiful view and silence.

That was the view from my balcony.

There was no bustle, cars, people

It was just him -

City.

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
It was a bright cold day in April , and the clocks were striking thirteen. I was sitting in a coffee shop on Baker Street, drinking a gingerbread latte, and looking at passers-by hurrying. Absolutely everything seemed so quick that I didn't notice how it became dark .

# data[].attributes.body
Here you will find a lot of interesting information about make up and get inspired;)