"[...]To Be The Candle Or The Mirror That Reflects It," - Edith Wharton
[New Moon (The Meadow) - Alexandre Desplat]
What a peculiar day. Woke up in a world covered by snow; not a thick layer but considerable and nevertheless persistant. It was as if we'd taken one step back in time, to a day that could be any of the days that passed. This day seemed particularly quite and still - frozen. I felt my heart was missing something very important, something I'd lost somewhere on the road. But that was too long ago, and I can't simply turn back and look for it anymore.
Let's say we finally managed to build a timemachine but only could use it once, where, I mean when would you go? I'd probably return to the time where candles were lit throughout the night.
What a peculiar day. Woke up in a world covered by snow; not a thick layer but considerable and nevertheless persistant. It was as if we'd taken one step back in time, to a day that could be any of the days that passed. This day seemed particularly quite and still - frozen. I felt my heart was missing something very important, something I'd lost somewhere on the road. But that was too long ago, and I can't simply turn back and look for it anymore.
Let's say we finally managed to build a timemachine but only could use it once, where, I mean when would you go? I'd probably return to the time where candles were lit throughout the night.
