The passing of Krikor:
“His pain came back in waves.”
“And then the apothecary’s books rendered him a last unique service - the read, the unread, the skimmed-through, the beloved. He stuck his burning hands into the leaves. Their pages were as cool as water. And more than that. A thin icy peace came streaming into him from the actual life-blood of these books…then the burning died throb by throb.”
— Dec 21, 2025 02:32PM
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