May 13, 2011

I feel as if I’m in Orwell’s
world, and I’m searching
for Katherine, fully aware

she can save me, maybe
just some part of me. And
I find her. I do, so often, I

find her. (She is you, reader!)
she never stays, she always
betrays me much sooner than

what the novel says; it happens
several chapters too early. “I’ve
still got thirty more pages,” I

stammer, pulling her towards that
secluded grove.

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