A paper clip to hold all the previous pages, all cancel
grooves, errors and ears to the pages. Not even a tear: they are all a bit 'yellow. The scent of fresh white paper, binding, which creaks like a kiss.
The first drop of ink, what it feels like an insult to every page, this time I see it already in prospect is the beginning of a story already started but not yet told.
Once upon a time, say one day.
