The KitchenThe Kitchen
The kitchen… This word is so meaningful. Sometimes it seems that, as we grow up, we simply move from one kitchen to the other. We started out with a childhood kitchen, which smelled like dried chamomile, Satureja, thymus, and lavage and had a kerosene lamp and shadows on the ceiling. Then came poor kitchens of the youth – windows wide open, where you could smoke and read until late at night, where you could quietly let the guests in when everyone had already been asleep.
In general, kitchens are a venue for a significant number of unimaginable things that seem to have no connection with this place. This included card fortune-telling, washing in zinc basins, solving the most essential problems in a whisper, washing clothes, and making love secretly and hastily; here, people stopped following the conversation and would silently look at the snow falling outdoors. When guests came, it was possible to have a quick drink, grab something from a plate, or finish the conversation that had once been interrupted...
Today, the distance is simpler, there’s more space, but every time you walk in, all the kitchens in the world you’ve spent time in becoming the only place of safety and hope, memories and the future...
The kitchen… This word is so meaningful. Sometimes it seems that, as we grow up, we simply move from one kitchen to the other. We started out with a childhood kitchen, which smelled like dried chamomile, Satureja, thymus, and lavage and had a kerosene lamp and shadows on the ceiling. Then came poor kitchens of the youth – windows wide open, where you could smoke and read until late at night, where you could quietly let the guests in when everyone had already been asleep.
In general, kitchens are a venue for a significant number of unimaginable things that seem to have no connection with this place. This included card fortune-telling, washing in zinc basins, solving the most essential problems in a whisper, washing clothes, and making love secretly and hastily; here, people stopped following the conversation and would silently look at the snow falling outdoors. When guests came, it was possible to have a quick drink, grab something from a plate, or finish the conversation that had once been interrupted...
Today, the distance is simpler, there’s more space, but every time you walk in, all the kitchens in the world you’ve spent time in becoming the only place of safety and hope, memories and the future...
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All rights for the whole and/or partial: graphic content (photos, videos, illustrations), plots/stories, single text materials, audio files/audio content, corresponding program code, that were used and/or are being used in the mobile application "NYMF" and/or all its original changes, additions, modifications and also on services https://dubnitskiy.com, https://nymf.com are the result of individual creativity and belong to D.I. Dubnitskiy (under the pen name of David Dubnitskiy).
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