She had sought such a moment throughout the world, where she might be quite alone, where no one might read on her face thoughts that she could not hide; where no one could plainly notice her walk was slow and sad, and miss the sound of her step when she could not walk any longer; a place where she might be forgotten and lost. She had sought to stand on the edge of another world, where her voice would make no warm sound, where her steps should not be heard, where she could follow streets without end, and see with lusterless eyes a life that could not be touched and felt like our own.
“
| — |
Anaïs Nin take from Waste of Timelessness and Other Early Stories. Excerpt: Tishnar (my favorite) |
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