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“And then just as her lids closed, a dream lined up to take flight across her sleep, a dream that would deposit two images, at last, to the door of her mind: the image of a linnet, tentative and free, flying across the Thames with a chest full of song. The image of a young man looking towards a horizon that promised nothing. The fog bell mourned.” — Sarah Winman
And then just as her lids closed, a dream lined up to take flight across her sleep, a dream that would deposit two images, at last, to the door of her mind: the image of a linnet, tentative and free, flying across the Thames with a chest full of song. The image of a young man looking towards a horizon that promised nothing.
The fog bell mourned.