Fire bird

Among the ordinary and gray everyday life, she appeared like a flash, like a myth embodied in reality - a girl whose essence was woven from light and warmth, a real Firebird. Her hair, be it copper, gold or crimson, seemed to exude an invisible glow, as if each curl was a feather scorched by the sun. Sparks flickered in her eyes, sometimes mischievous, sometimes deep, reflecting the entire palette of fire - from the gentle flickering of smoldering coals to the blinding shine of the midday flame. When she moved, there seemed to be a light, barely perceptible trail of something magical, spicy and enticing in the air, like the aroma of a campfire in the forest. She did not just walk, but soared, each gesture was filled with the grace inherent in a winged creature. Little bells rang in her laughter, and her smile could illuminate the darkest space. She was as unpredictable as gusts of wind carrying sparks, and as free as a bird flying in the endless sky. Trying to hold her, to understand her completely or to tame her seemed pointless, for a true Firebird is meant to fly, to illuminate the world, and not to be locked in a cage. Her presence filled the air with a sense of wonder and eternal youth. She carried within herself the promise of light and joy, making those around her believe in fairy tales, in the fact that the world is full of wonder and inexpressibility. And although she might be fleeting, her mark on the hearts of those who saw her remained forever - bright, warm and unforgettable, like the reflection of a flame that has long since died out, but left behind a magical aftertaste.