Transcription: The swallows became restless, the soft pleasant brightness of the sky faded and the chilly air rose. There was tranquility but it was not the calm of sleep it was the calm of unconsciousness. A pallid light spread over the whole country. Our shadows, empty and formless, fell on the walls, our faces became ashen. The morning freshness which had held sway until a moment ago gave over to a slow death which, despite everything, I found exhilarating. The tension rose to a crescendo. The last fragment of the sun was snuffed out as a candle vanishes in the wind. The moon stood in the middle of the su ... File Comment Made in Intimate Arts
(.mp3)