If I were the one to ask for an apology, I would not ask, I would be unable to, I would rather the ground open up and swallow me



you read distractedly you'd think a fire was going to burn up what you're going to write, the other person yawns, collapses onto his chair, he closed his eyes,...

X is her nose sadly touching its reflection on the window pane when I looked at it from above standing behind her as rain drops bombarded our street



For this reason perhaps, the detour often resembles an unshaded passage, and never a magnificent gate, it leaves its impression on those grand entrances, introductions, promising a lovely house,...