(four fingers)
the journal of Michael Werneburg
twenty-eight years and a million words
Toronto, 2012.01.26
I asked Kenny, "Do you know what tomorrow is?"
He looked at me, then his mum, and held up four fingers.
twenty-eight years and a million words
I asked Kenny, "Do you know what tomorrow is?"
He looked at me, then his mum, and held up four fingers.
It's better to be king of your silence than slave of your words.
—Shakespeare