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I shall remain in Borges, not in myself (if it is true that I am someone), but I recognize myself less in his books than in many others or in the laborious strumming of a guitar.
Tags » Short Story--Fiction
“Sshh…This is a secret; please don’t tell this to anyone.” I said to the knife while rolling inside the gun. “So you mean to say you’re not in the mood to die today and so you plan to not hit the aim and just fly away in the sky?” Knife confirmed once again before the shooter got the gun ready to shoot me out. 435 more words