Matthew Martinuzzimembuat kutipan4 tahun yang lalu
Only childhood and death. And nothing in between. Except darkness and silence.
b6138719531membuat kutipan2 tahun yang lalu
I clearly imagine the strangled wrestlers, tossed down on the mat one next to the other, and start feeling the shortage of air, as if I’ve fallen into Harry Stoev’s hold. I rush to escape, while the crowd takes off after him. And then from somewhe
b8410615281membuat kutipan3 tahun yang lalu
twelve years old, th
Engin Aliosmanmembuat kutipan3 tahun yang lalu
And so, I dreamed that I was awake.
Engin Aliosmanmembuat kutipan3 tahun yang lalu
dreamed that I was awake.
Engin Aliosmanmembuat kutipan3 tahun yang lalu
Then the snow would bury the little window and the room would become a den. I would curl up into a ball like a rabbit under the snow. It is so light, yet you are hidden, invisible to the others, whose footsteps crunch in the snow only inches away from you. What could be lovelier than that?
Engin Aliosmanmembuat kutipan3 tahun yang lalu
he flip-flops were something like swimsuits for feet.
Engin Aliosmanmembuat kutipan3 tahun yang lalu
When you share a single room, you can’t keep too many secrets
Engin Aliosmanmembuat kutipan3 tahun yang lalu
When you share a single room, you can’t keep too many secrets.
Engin Aliosmanmembuat kutipan3 tahun yang lalu
But stories always end in one of two ways—with a child or with death.)