It was darker, all she could see of him was a shadow. He was fading more and more, slipping through her hands, dead at the bottom of sleep.
— Clarice Lispector
Near to the Wild Heart
© Spoligo | 2025 All rights reserved
It was darker, all she could see of him was a shadow. He was fading more and more, slipping through her hands, dead at the bottom of sleep.
— Clarice Lispector
Near to the Wild Heart
© Spoligo | 2025 All rights reserved