An attribute of Rosa Hubermann, she was a good woman for a crisis.
Even now, I wonder how much of my life is convinced.
Could she smell my breath? Could she hear my cursed circular heart beat revolving like the crime it is in my deathly chest?
I realize that nothing belongs to her anymore and she belongs to everything.
The day was gray, the color of Europe.
I had to decide what I was going to do, and what I was going to be. I was standing there, waiting for someone to do something , till I realised the person I was waiting for was myself.