"If you stopped to notice, was the air always like this? Little faint winds were playing chase, in at the tops of the windows, out at the doors. And there were two tiny spots of sun, one on the inkpot, one on a silver photograph frame, playing too. Darling little spots.
Especially the one on the inkpot lid. It was quite warm. A warm little silver star. She could have kissed it."
The prose is Luminous!
— Dec 31, 2025 02:11AM
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