Thousands of little suns, moving flexibly left and right with the breath of the wind, painted the landscape yellow, like tubes of watercolor, resembling a painting by Van Gogh, stealing something from the brilliance of the bright disc in the sky.

And among the sunflowers stood out a male figure in white linen clothes. It was Christoforos. "My God! After all this, he stopped in the middle of nowhere to pick sunflowers..." Anna thought.

They took the ferry in silence and crossed to the small island. Christoforos drove quickly with the wind coming through the open windows, mixing their long hair together, as if they were embracing in a dancing whirlwind.

The radio played loudly "Don't Cry" by Guns N' Roses. Anna held the bouquet of sunflowers. An unruly tear slipped from her cheek and landed on one of the sunflowers. It hung like a dewdrop at the edge of a yellow velvet petal, balancing without falling into the void.