VENDEURS DE REVES
- Reads 12
- Votes 2
- Parts 2
Ongoing<5 mins
Last published Mon, May 21, 2018
A tous ces humains, ces migrants. Qui autrefois, étaient nos pères ou nos mères.
Fraîcheur du vent, venant de l'Ouest. Soleil éclatant, venant de l'Ouest.
Mon beau pays. Il m'a fait naître, mais il me verra certainement pas mourir. Pourquoi dis-je cela ? Vous le saurez plus tard. Ou pas. Sinon tout va bien. Bien.
_______ HISTOIRE COURTE
All Rights Reserved
#721
europe
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