donderdag 28 september 2017

wolken 2487

wolkenfragment uit Herman Melville, Bartleby, The Scrivener

I was thunderstruck. For an instant I stood like the man who, pipe in mouth, was killed one cloudless afternoon long ago in Virginia, by a summer lightning; at his own warm open window he was killed, and remained leaning out there upon the dreamy afternoon, till someone touched him, when he fell.