“Yesterday, when they buried his parents, the sun shone. Today, too, was incongruously sunny, cruelly bright and cheerful and hopeful, the birds singing and the first spring flowers blooming. Ten-year-old Lord Lucien de Grey hid from the sun and the world’s horrible happiness.”
First sentence and I love it already because it sounds like Stranger by Camus
— Jan 18, 2026 06:37PM
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