“Priest pointed at the cheeses and told me
their names. There were Camembert, Brie, blue vein and then one that smelled
very bad. ‘It is called The Old Cheese,’ said Priest.”
Two books for the trip abandoned part way,
though the second hand moments.
A third opened, turned, opened again until
it was done.
The Vanishing Act.
“It is in the heart and not in the words –
not even in the most beautiful ones – but in the heart, in the skeleton bird
pushing against your chest, wanting to fly, that we know for certain who and
what we love. That is all we have, and all there is.”
Mette Jakobsen.
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