And how this snow-filled thing moved, how to describe that? It did not walk, but instead seemed to blink and flash: now to the left a metre, now forward half that. Now back a blink, then forward even further, making erratic but constant progress towards the figure on the ground behind her.
“How did I let you convince me on this trip?” Tania asked, sweeping her hand across the barren, whitened sameness of their horizon.
For 17 days the future of Europe was held in the balance by the soldiers, sailors, and civilians of Kotlin island…
A wonderful little movie. A modern remake of Cyrano de Bergerac, where tragedy and loss are transformed into possibility.
i dreamed of you last night
we were fugitives in the rain
Not gentle into that good night
dragged over jagged rocks, the current
leaving bits of me on the shore
here comes the dawn, again
a world that could have been, like the world of music lost in this broken dream of keys
ghosts don’t exist but hauntings are real, more real than this
tears all day […]