Trafika Europe 12 - French Bon-Bons
A freezing winter had settled over him. His firm pale lips broke into a shattered smile. He was a madman. That ’s what they said. But was he, really?
He talked persistently:
-Something you create, is it enough for your loneliness? To what extent?
The funeral procession crossed to the other side of the lake, moving towards the graveyard where cypress trees kept their vigil.
-Is what you have created in your mind and what you have been dreaming of; is it enough for your loneliness? If it were, would you dream again? No! There is no end to dreams. Neither to loneliness…
I heard my heart saying, ‘Love is in it, too.’ He must have heard it:
-It never occurred to me.
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