snippet from Peachhollow
Peachhollow
not waving but drowning.

and i am told this is a sort of paradise,

everyone old has dreamed of all their lives. (as philip thought, and said, and thus he spoke- while the young who are in one another's arms, and the birds in the trees all neglect him, jolie et sans souci)

but me. going on. laughing.
going down the long slide. the grinding halt.

alone

33

This author has released some other pages from Peachhollow:

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Some friendly and constructive comments