20 Sep BLOGMETENDAL DCCLXXVII: Alone, just us
The fields are no longer ploughed, the vegetable gardens are no longer tended, clothes are no longer hung out to dry.
All that remains are the traces of when we used to communicate with our surroundings.
Only silence grows.
And abandonment, our own, of ourselves, of abandoning ourselves, of isolating ourselves.
As if we could live alone
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