THOSE WHO SUFFER LOVE

19.06.09 . 3:45 pm

There is something in this part of the country that, when the fog descends and the sun tries to break through it, everything becomes different shades of white. We drive on roads near the ocean, the spaces between the houses, the view, white on white on white on white.

I am sleepy and feverish, I cannot quite determine realities from each other. I try to read but ten words read inspire ten thousand echoing inside my skull.

Soon- and we know it is soon- there is death descending on my family.

I want more than anything to be very bad.

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