...Hearts come to people in different ways,” the grandfather told little Yanko. “Who he’ll gallop right to the doorstep, who he’ll meet in the meadow or by the river, and who he’ll lead with him through the forest all day, calling, teasing. And everyone has their own time. More often than not, it’s like a guy’s mustache has broken out - wait for the heart, but sometimes a man lives to be gray, wears a hundred clothes, but no, the heart doesn’t come to him. At least ask, at least demand, at least cry...

A story that rightfully took 1st place in the fantasy story competition “Master’s Star” in 2005