Thursday, 23 April 2015

As I Brushed by Them

             Men in a barroom will often fall silent when a woman comes in. ............ I don't know what i would call it myself. It was the memory of someone in each man's past. Someone like me, long ago, far away, come back to mind again for a moment, before the memory darkened again and went out forever. It was life's last afterglow glancing off the faces of the dead as i brushed by them.

Cornell Woolrich
Black Angel

reblogged via swiftlytiltingplanet blog

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