Among the many apartments I’ve lived in over the years, one had been across the street from a playground and I’d always noticed that in the last half an hour before dusk the children’s voices seemed to get noisier. I could never tell whether it was because in the failing light the city had grown a decibel more quiet, or because the children had really grown louder, knowing their time was almost through. Certain phrases or peals of laughter would break away from the rest, rising up, and hearing one of these I would sometimes get up from my desk to watch the children below.

Great House, Nicole Krauss, p. 30

note to self: make more notes to self. write about those moments that give pause. expand them into baubles of fictitious spaces, play with the characters that come alive, give new lives, respect imaginatively.


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