... I looked at the crack... «On the Road»
HeartOfAtlantis24 октября 2014... I looked at the crack high ceiling and really didn't know who I was for about fifteen seconds. I wasn't scared; I was just somebody else, some stranger, and my whole life was a hauted life, the life of a ghost. I was halfway across America, at the diving line between the East of my youth and the West of my future, and maybe that's why it happened right there and then, that strange red afteernoon.
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