“Where do all the unsaid I love you’s in the world go? she inquired. And the second girl replied, Perhaps they float in someone’s bathtub on top of the water, struggling to stay afloat. Or maybe there’s even a special landfill in New York for them, a huge mountain of them, stacked millions and millions of miles high, so high that it towers above the moon. But wherever they are, they must die such lonely, painful deaths.”
- Fragment 97
- Fragment 97