Then, later, they spring
Was that the beginning, that evening – on the dock at Avilion, with the fireworks dazzling the sky? It’s hard to know. Beginnings are sudden, but also insidious. They creep up on you sideways, they keep to the shadows, they lurk unrecognized. Then, later, they spring.
Uit The Blind Assassin, Margaret Atwood.
Uit The Blind Assassin, Margaret Atwood.
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