The morning is clear and the street is crowded when you call me. I haven't seen you for one year. It has been a year since you left me, or I left you, it doesn't matter. Suddenly, you stand just in front of me, smiling, dazzling, pregnant. I thought I was cured of you. But you show up and I succumb under an attack of images, remembrances. A hell of a shaking. All I have to do is to escape. One year ago, you mentioned cowardice.