An empty space left to occupy a meadow: Hey, bouquet, let’s play.
This is another replay from the past. I’m rewriting Proust. (My, such modesty.) I was primarily interested in the narrative situated created when the omniscient narrator gives–or appears to give–the character insights and knowledge he could not possibly have or know. By the way, has there ever been an omniscient anything on this earth? Wait,Continue reading “I am falling asleep, Marcel says, taking the young girl in his arms”