from The Street of Crocodiles, by Bruno Schultz

October 5, 2014 § Leave a comment

“Thus my mother and I ambled along the two sunny sides of Market Square, guiding our broken shadows along the houses as over a keyboard. Under our soft steps the squares of the paving stones slowly filed past–some the pale pink of human skin, some golden, some blue gray, all flat, warm and velvety in the sun, like sundials, trodden to the point of obliteration, into blessed nothingness.”

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