The proofreader was pursuing an A. senz'acca, when his gaze was captured by the world outside the window.
loved it, without ever really known.
He had read of the summer, music and emotions, and young and naive, had succumbed to his charms imaginary.
course, also knew his faults, but like all stories destined to end badly he was sure he could change it.
believed he could paint nightmares, stroking the fire and cheat death.
They left in a cold winter, the proofreader failed to heat.
Resigned, returned to his beloved words, the most docile of the facts, they just stay the right side of the window: what can be corrected.
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