Prague

I think some day i will come back to this city for sure. Not for its beautiful building, not for Kafka, nor for Milan Kundera. But for the fragrances I had smelt over the street, for the written postcards that I had read over the aged bookstore which kept by aged keeper, for the beer shop keeper who staring over the street and making those profound look, for the photo of potraits waited to be discovered and imagined, for the ambiguous looks of the passer by, for the chilly wind that make you feel better with drinking some authentic czech beer in the late night, for the people that i had seriously missed a lot and pondering about.