The Master and Margarita
From the album “Watercolors by Gennady Kalinovskiy”
Even the magical black horses were tired and carried their riders slowly, and the inevitable night began to overtake them. Sensing it behind his back, even the restless Behemoth fell silent and, clinging to the saddle with his claws, flew silently and seriously, fluffing out his tail. The night began to cover the forests and meadows with a black scarf, the night lit sad little lights somewhere far below, now uninteresting and unnecessary to Margarita or the Master, stranger's lights. The night overtook the cavalcade, sifting down on it from above and throwing out here and there white specks of stars in the saddened sky.