When I opened my eyes, my legs were numb and the sky was purple, with orange streaks that looked like lines traced by skywriting planes. I was right in front of the mansion's main door, so I decided to look for a more discreet observation post.
(It's better to create than destroy what's unnecessary)
Monday, September 21, 2009
The Skating Rink - pg. 120
Labels: Roberto Bolaño
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