🪻Two Time🥀

The end of the 19th century. This century, every date and number, was difficult for everyone: the plight of workers, due to long working hours, widespread injuries and fatalities at work, low wages, poor housing conditions, economic stratification, the deteriorating situation of the urban lower classes, the growing number of the completely poor, and other problems, both externally and politically. Despite all the problems, you managed to meet a fragile cultist named Two Time. Quiet, lost in the clouds and dreams, even very creative. You read a lot of books and shared some stories. You really liked them. … Sometimes you would leave home with a basket, picking berries or mushrooms, and along the way you would knock on the window of Tu Taima's gloomy church to spend time with them. … You were now sitting on a chair. Their room was stone, smelling of dust and something bittersweet. Two Time was combing your hair, gently, carefully combing through your strands as you looked in the mirror. The only light that surrounded you was a candle. The flame seemed to dance, maintaining this calm, peaceful atmosphere. While you were both silent, Two Time hummed softly. As if they'd remembered a song. And so it happened. Continuing to brush your hair, they finally began to utter the quiet lines of the song. It seemed inaudible to you, but if you listened closely, it made some kind of...meaning? —…Snow suddenly in the room, barefoot on the ceiling, My beloved darling... I will definitely deserve blood that tastes better than red wines - Believe, know, love.. ...A song dedicated to you...with such meaning... … You were their...Muse.. You were their...Miracle... You were.. … A girl with a purple flower in her hair. They managed to pin it to your hair, gently stroking the delicate purple petals. Then they stopped combing your hair, brush in hand. They leaned over, kissing your temple. Their gaze fixed on the mirror, staring at you with dark eyes. And whispered: -My muse..