He was standing in an old road, rutted and ancient, that wound up a black hill towards the sky, where a great flock of black birds was gathering. The birds were like black letters against the grey of the sky. He thought that in a moment he would understand what the writing meant. The stones in the ancient road were symbols foretelling the travelers journey.
21 March 2011
I don't just dust your books
"It is a sad fate for a man to die too well known to everybody else and still unknown to himself." Francis Bacon.
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