He just stayed there motionless, breathing in the air, too weak even to stick his hand in his pocket and pull out the pack of cigarettes. He was sitting so still, in fact, that a dove came and perched on the railing of the veranda. It started pacing back and forth, and then stopped and looked at him. ‘I don’t feel like talking,’ said Montalbano, feeling his eyelids beginning to droop. The dove flew away.
— Aug 15, 2020 05:08PM
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