Поступай, как хочешь. Только не бросай ракуго. / Старомодный мечник с жезлом девочки-волшебницы.
Those moments aren't ours any more. They're shut up in a box, buried at the back of a cupboard, out of reach. They're frozen like on a postcard or a calendar. The colours will end up disappearing, fading. They're forbidden to our memories and our words.

@темы: книги, Собака Лайка и бежевый потолок, txt