Samuel Willoughby’s Reviews > Season of Migration to the North > Status Update

The writing reads like a gold tablet (e.g. below)! I’m awe-struck, and now starving to write something myself.

“My bedroom became a theatre of war; my bed a patch of hell.” “When she saw me, she saw a dark twilight like a false dawn. Unlike me, she yearned for tropical climes, cruel suns, purple horizons. In her eyes I was a symbol of all her hankerings. I am South that yearns for the North and the ice.”