Don DeLillo, from White Noise (Viking Press, 1985)
It was the time of year, the time of day, for a small insistent sadness to pass into the texture of things. Dusk, silence, iron chill. Something lonely in the bone.
Posted 4 years ago on 11th October
Via: soracities · Origin: memoryslandscape
Tags:    #words view 2,491 notes
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    Maybe I wasn’t there from the beginning. They could have been false from the start. What makes me sad is I want this...
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A