
‘On most days, you pick a book, and open it, and you read, and you are happy,’ the old librarian said, looking at his dalmatian.
‘But then sometimes, when you open a book, you find a dried butterfly that turns to powder at touch, and you weep.’
The dalmatian whined.
Like this:
Like Loading...
Related
Published by Vincent Mars
I write as a way of life: stories, blogs, articles, almost-poems. I'm a freelancer, a vegetarian, and I listen to Leonard Cohen and enjoy French films. We are dying a little more with each new day we live, so shouldn't we make the most of our time?
View all posts by Vincent Mars
Just as I was wondering what happened to your hat, I see you are wearing it again.
It’s disappearance was only temporary. Now I’ve found it. All is well. 🙂
You can pack so much in fifty. I love it. So I’m tagging you. You might want to be it. http://2bnine.wordpress.com
That’s a good ‘un, that is.
Reblogged this on Jason Rage Posts.
Nice!
Fantastic!
Quite stunning indeed. really liked this one.
I have a dried flower in my copy of 2666. My mum used to put them in books all the time when I was little for a surprise.
This made me giggle! It reminded me of the famous talking dog on you tube 🙂 very fresh writing and plot – I love it!