I had them brought into the town hall and I headed there myself with my secretaries and driver. When I saw them, so terribly pale, so terribly thin, so terribly in need of soccer and alcohol, I felt sorry for them. Standing motionless there, they seemed less like children than like the skeletons of children, abandoned sketches, pure will and bone.
(It's better to create than destroy what's unnecessary)
Sunday, January 25, 2009
2666 - pg. 763
Labels: Roberto Bolaño
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