Hans Rustad Sunset over Villa Ortuzar Evening like Doomsday. The street’s end opens like a wound on the sky. Was the brightness burning far away a sunset or an angel? Relentless, like a nightmare, the distance weighs on me. The horizon is tormented by a wire fence. The world is like something useless, thrown away. It is […]
Bli abonnent eller logg inn – hvis du allerede er abonnent – for å lese denne artikkelen. Pluss-artikler blir frigitt 24 timer etter publisering. Arkiverte artikler er forbeholdt abonnenter.
