Bücher von F. J. Savina

One small drop. Just one. My face was so close to the conical beaker that condensation appeared on the glass surface with every short breath I took. My eyes were glued to the container I held carefully, tipping it inch by inch, waiting for that one drop to fall. Little did I know that what happened next would send me on an adventure. But not any normal adventure; an adventure through history. A collection of stories.