Ok, this is getting more than a little strange. How can it be? That one road leads to the next, only so that you can see another? How can it be? That one point has to be made, just so you can appoach a different one, because you really, really have to get there. Again: Your sister. But this time, an aunt. Again: Irish. But this time, I. Again: An influence. A lifeline of the past. Someone who shaped and formed and dented. Someone with a similar language. Someone with similar words. Someone with a similar mind. And I. Left to wonder and marvel. At the world. At this life. At love.
Patricio Samuelsson – Hundra mil
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