From Autumn, by Ali Smith
ONE MIGHT
"One might imagine it'd be unpleasant, being sealed in a tree. One might imagine, ah, pining. But the scent lightens despair. It's perhaps a little like wearing a coat of armour except much nicer, because the armour is made of a substance through which years themselves, formative, have run."
From Chapter Two
Sunday, December 16, 2018
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