October´s Reflections

High above the city, staring through the windows at the sparkling frost of the planet, he thought: All my illusions like so many stained glass windows are being shattered by the unceremonious vagrants of experience who do not realize these windows made it seem like I was living in a cathedral.

And there was that lonely sense of exile, much deeper than most of the rest of life. He listened to Shostakovich and could feel the lament of things that should not be the way they were. And there was in that companionship through string quartets a strange kinship, despite the time and the light years between.

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