Circe
by
The thought was this: that all my life had been murk and depths, but I was not a part of that dark water. I was a creature within it.
“Time is a keyhole, he thought as he looked up at the stars. Yes, I think so. We sometimes bend and peer through it. And the wind we feel on our cheeks when we do - the wind that blows through the keyhole- is the breath of all the living universe.”
― The Wind Through the Keyhole
― The Wind Through the Keyhole
Theatre Books and Plays
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