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Fog.. So very.."
"Do you like fog"
She used the ancient, long-forgotten "thou" — the "thou" of the master to the slave. It entered into me slowly, sharply. Yes, I was a slave, and this, too, was necessary, was good.
"Yes, good.." I said aloud to myself. And then to her," I hate fog. I am afraid of it."
"That means you love it. You are afraid of it because it is stronger than you; you hate it because you are afraid of it: you love it because you cannot subdue it to your will. Only the unsubduable can be loved. (en) |
