"All this he saw, for one moment breathless and intense, vivid on the morning sky; and still, as he looked, he lived; and still, as he lived, he wondered."

Un bel modo di finire l’anno


Lo rivoglio indietro,
grandissimi figli di troia.
Spooktober

Spooktober 29 – The Black Monk (4)

Chapter 7 One long winter night Kovrin was lying in bed, reading a French novel. Poor Tanya, who had headaches in the evenings from living in town, to which she was not accustomed, had been asleep a long while, and, from time to time, articulated

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technology

Hey, teacher, leave the bumblebee alone

Every few months it comes back. A pencil drawing of a bee, a quote in a serif font, and different authorities invoked as the source: aerodynamically speaking, the bee cannot fly, but it doesn’t know that, so it flies anyway. It gets shared and liked,

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Spooktober

Spooktober 28 – The Black Monk (3)

Chapter 5 Glad that he had been so successful in the part of peacemaker, Kovrin went into the park. Sitting on a garden seat, thinking, he heard the rattle of a carriage and a feminine laugh — visitors were arriving. When the shades of evening

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3 Comments
  • utente anonimo
    Posted at 23:31h, 29 December Reply

    minchia

  • contenebbia
    Posted at 15:06h, 31 December Reply

    Sorry, dear: comunque, a proposito di ciò che scrivevi nel Teatrino, ricorda sempre che io e te si parla la stessa lingua. Un bacio.

  • Shelidon
    Posted at 11:52h, 06 January Reply

    Bacio ricambiato, mio caro Conte.

    @ anonimo: un modo migliore di dirlo non c’era

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