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29.11.06

Voltar a casa

A dream it was what drew me here. In it, I was walking along the country road, that was all. It was in winter, at dusk, or else it was a strange sort of dimly radiant night, the sort of night that there is only in dreams, and a wet snow is falling. I was determinedly on my way somewhere, going home, it seemed, although I did not know what or where home might be. [...] I had hours of walking to do but I did not mind that, for this was a journey of surpassing but inexplicable importance, one that I must take and was bound to complete. I was calm in myself, quite calm, and confident, too, despite not knowing rightly where I was going except that I was going home. I was alone on the road.
[John Banville, The Sea, págs. 24-25]

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