But sitting here, old and alone, looking back—looking back over my life, it is you, my god, that I think of. For it is you who have been my life, you who consume and burn all things like fire. You who leave nothing in your wake. My life is what I have lived in you. The cruel, bitter, rich life you h...
In a little house on the mountain slopes above Delphi lived an old woman with her witless son.My verdict is still out on this one so have marked it the 'lagom' way for now.
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