Here in the blackness, a secret flower blossoms at midnight. It attracts quiet bats. The dank mud reeked of spices. Are you not the moon, you have such a white face. I read through bulky old books with the rabbi.
Unicorns reveal themselves in dreams.
Organ music from the heavens. If you find this compelling reading, so be it. One rarely encounters a book that has no redeeming qualities whatsoever, but in my opinion The Diary of Mr. Pinke is just such a book. Dreams at the End of the Night is Murrer's most sustained attempt at a long prose work. It consists of 17 short narratives ranging from two to six pages in length.