The Writer in Exile
The Writer in Exile

Summary/Abstract: I had a dream. I was at an airport, waiting for someone. Finally the person I was waiting for, a woman of my age, appeared. Before we got into a taxi, I asked her “Don’t you have any luggage?” “No, I just have lifeage!” said the woman. The sentence my double had spoken could be translated: Life is the only luggage I carry with me.

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