Monday or Tuesday

Lazy and indifferent, shaking space easily from his wings, knowing his way, the heron passes over the church beneath the sky. White and distant, absorbed in itself, endlessly the sky covers and uncovers, moves and remains. A lake? Blot the shores of it out! A mountain? Oh, perfect—the sun gold on its slopes. Down that falls. Ferns then, or white feathers, for ever and ever...

© 2016 Anncona Media AB (Lydbog): 9789176056639
© 2015 Interactive Media (E-bog): 9781910660997

Release date

Lydbog: 14. januar 2016
E-bog: 15. april 2015