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2021.02.09 =>

January was humid and warm, and February fooled the forsythia: none of the townspeople had ever seen such weather.

Lolita

The end of time as a shear layer moving alongside you, always one step ahead of memory. Yesterday the end of time was placid, an evenly washed sky like the surface of a lake. Today it’s warmer, with birdcalls.

Wie man wird, was man ist.

The past wears its old clothes, it won’t be resuited.

<= 2021.01.25

2021.02.09 =>

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