Different Pen
Summers and solitude, winters and wistfulness. God, Arctic snow and strawberries.
Tuesday, June 26, 2012
nevermore
I have a rather Poe-esque raven looking over my shoulder right now.
And he's indeed saying "nevermore" because it's almost time to leave the village and the dog. And I don't know how I can
bear
to leave the dog.
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