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.



37 Newark 1993

Camino del loft, las calles nuevas no dicen nada pero no para de hablar, la puerta del edificio y las escaleras hacia el taller, la puerta del taller y ya es casi la hora para cenar algo.

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