Marriage is tough, but the bride is bitter. No matter how much humor you have, "black" can't be colorful. And here is the conclusion: The little flamenco girl can no longer get on her feet.

Is there a God after all? And if there is, can His angel be named Mitsos? Is there a solution? How can we gradually approach it without becoming fools? Yet there is. Every woman can change her life, as long as the time comes and Mitsos appears.