Time had gone, and my memory did not exist, and I was unable to distinguish between what I had invented and what I had known, and I knew that what I had invented was all false.
Doris Lessing in The Golden Notebook.



9

Es darse cuenta de lo calido que puede ser el Atlántico, distante,
siempre cansado, con el sol de febrero.

Lisboa 2007

It's to notice the warm over the Atlantic, distant, always tired, with
the february sunshine.

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