But the summer...

Shall I read to you? My eyes are tired but I think I can bear it... just one more chapter until your eyelids are heavy. "Vous savez que ne vous parlez pas," you said. And I agreed. The strong teeth of life bit into my ambition, cut it short. Ambition? Ambulatory hopes that I'd collected. Light into darkness, darkness into light... it's always some variance thereof.The summer was extraordinary.They upped my dosage days ago and I felt a flood of colour enter my brain as I brushed my teeth this morning. The summer was good... we had a good time. You look so pretty there, sleeping, like a little angel. In the winter you were in charge of putting more logs on the fire. The winter was hard this year.You look like a child.Do you remember the time I swam to that lighthouse? I told you I was dreaming, but I think I was awake. The winter was hard, but the summer.