"It moved up closer to him still and now he could not speak to it, and when it saw he could not speak it came a little closer, and now he tried to send it away without speaking, but it moved in on him so its weight was all upon his chest..."
-"The Snows of Kilimanjaro," Hemingway
What a relief it is to wake up,
feeling nothing but a little tired.
Even the bitter blast is all right, at least from in here.
And:
'"Love is a dunghill,' said Harry. 'And I'm the cock that gets on it to crow.'"
A step up from The Old Man and the Sea, to be sure!
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