Une vie sans amour, c’est comme une année sans été, says Fred. He is set back from the path. Take a seat here, he says, Merlin will take care of you. But Merlin isn’t here, and there is nowhere to sit. The air in the wood is thick with rot. I think this is her now… She looks like a lovely woman! The mud on my boots is smooth, wet and heavy. I think you will like her. The path leads to a wooden stile and beyond that a field.
2020-05-20 coup d'œil