Hello there! I write stories to make the life endurable for the human being on this planet. Sometimes I present it as a novel, sometimes as a short story. I live in a city which I fell in love. Gray, wet, old and noble. This city, full of mysteries, is my strongest source of inspiration. In here, the time differently goes on, in the mornings, afternoons or nights. The stories in this city are much more real. This city is infectious, just like the fairy tales. Like most stories, this one also starts on a foggy London day, starts with a fog. There was fog at the beginning. The moon shined when it was pitch black. When the night shifted its cover away, the gloomy sun rised. First it looked on us through the hills, then united with the gloom. Fog was there, where it always is. It''s a city gate. It is a noble city that greets you with its gray wings opened to eternity. As most lives have begun, this is the foggy London day, the magic gate that will open with a fog. After all, there was mist before everything else; in the nooks and crannies of the city, under and deeper ... The city has gracefully lounges like Debussy''s Clair De Lune. When the time comes, the Feetjie who lived in the depths of the Thames start to whisper to the ear. Whether you want it or not, this magical melodrama. Suddenly Hyde Park invites you to the bottom of Japanese cherry trees while you are not in your mind. Then you turn your steps into Regent''s Park. Before you go, Thames periors will tell you the story of the whispering rose garden, the fate of every smile. Some cities, just like London, refresh your mind and heal the fractures in your soul. The city begins to return to the time of breathless ghosts, folk and angels. When Ragnarok starts, it goes on like this until the swallow the Sun, and the Hati swallow the Moon.