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anasn2

Poetry

  • Dreaming: a sailor's image

    Mornings cease to longer exist,without my coffee and cigarette,and a playing oldie long missed,with a sweetheart to hold, not time when there's no moon,for the sun shines so bright,I think ...

    • Short Story
    1 min read


I love her dearly, but I can’t live with her for a day without feeling my whole life is wasting away.
— Miss Kenton, The Remains of the Day by Kazuo Ishiguro