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5.21.2015

I looked out of the window

“I looked out of the window and saw: a red-haired house painter caught a mouse in his wheelbarrow and killed it with the stroke of a brush, then he tossed it in a puddle. The puddle reflected the dark-blue sky, quick black upsilons (reflections of swallows flying high) and the knees of a squatting child, who was attentively studying the little grey round corpse.”

from Nabokov's letters to Vera


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2 comments:

  1. I looked out of the window...

    every story could begin like this? every every story...

    ReplyDelete
  2. And I bet you thought I wouldn't see this! Nice try.

    ReplyDelete