Evelyn In. Brideshead revisited (№ 130749)

Maybe all our love is only a sign, a symbol, just random words written in passing on fences and sidewalks along a long, tiring journey has already been traveled by many before us; perhaps you and I - just some images, and sadness, sometimes attending us, is born of the disappointment we experience in their quest tschas catch in other that flashed a shadow in front and disappears, never having admitted to myself.