Please, he said.
don’t kill me like this.
Take me to 13.
I dont care about protocol, and if after 13 i am to go, i will not lift
a finger. Forget about the flowers. Just go to 13.
slowly the sun moved that day. How is it that time can stretch so? what
is the mechanism by which this is ticking?
Slowly, some would say lazily. Like the odd drops falling over Budapest
that time, so long ago. hitting the large umbrellas with resounding plops. All
was possible then. Only the word was missing. The word was not yet even
formulated.
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