Por estos retazos de viento que desfilan entre sonidos, agarre los hilos del torbellino y teja usted una manta que lo cobije del olvido.
martes, 21 de septiembre de 2010
Murakami
Now I know exactly how dangerous the forest can be. And I hope I never forget it. (...) All the plants and trees there, for instance. I'd never imagined that trees could be so weird and unearthly. I mean, the only plants I've ever really seen or touched till now are the city kind - neatly trimmed and cared-for bushes and trees. But the ones here - the ones living here - are totally different. They have a physical power, their breath grazing any humans who might chance by, their gaze zeroing in on the intruder like they've spotted their prey. Like they have some dark, prehistoric, magical powers.
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