At the Konditorei Close, warm, and humming with the relaxed sounds of post- midday Kaffee-Kuchen. The cakes are...
The Sky there was a uniform inactive grey, except when stared at through a chainlink fence; those who could...
Last night Kurosawa’s woodcutter strode through the forest, his axe on his shoulder. Intense sunlight stabbed and sparkled and...
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