Ja havíem enterrat el mes d’agost i ningú no deia res de marxar. Els dies passaven ara l’un, ara l’altre, i el setembre va fer cap, dolç com un raïm.
Jardí vora el mar
"when you cut a hole into my skull, do you hate what you see like i do?" "i might like you less now that you know me so well" "you know me, and i'll never forgive you for that."
how it feels going to uni nd actually studying instead of sitting on a patch of grass with a multi cultural friend group making jokes like we’re in a coming-of-age montage…