ΌWhen I was dismissed, at the end of '87, I went through Diakofto. Miles away, was where you vacationed. I came there and sat on a bench in the old railway station. Next to me was a newspaper from last year. I took it and pretended to read. I was waiting for the train to pass and for you to get off. You would wear, he says, a light-colored hat and hold a floral umbrella. There was no train, no stationmaster and no passengers. Time passed slowly, like an Angelopoulos film. I became an actor in my life's work. I took off my paint and left.
Why would you want such a person and everyone else to be shadows? Why go to the point of deriving the highest pleasure from a particular creature? Why shouldn't there be a pharmacy for these pains? Why go from a prince to a beggar?
A sentimental novel about unquenchable love, which travels the mind beyond all logic and cannot be softened by time.
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