“They sink down into a far too soft sofa in the drawing room, with its high, heavily draped windows facing the dusk of the garden and the blossoming fruit trees. They hold hands. Well, now we’re far away. So we’ve realized our dream. Or is this the demons’ ingenious version of our dream? Are we actually present, or has our boldness made us breathless and our faces pale? What is happening to us? Have we walked into a trap, approved with kindness and prudence by a dear friend? Is this ridiculous? Shall we laugh or is it already time to cry?”
~Ingy Bergman, Private Confessions
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