Preston's Attic

¨He was a Cambridge man and, having no other living relatives and few friends outside of those whom he could also count as colleagues, he spent much of the ink from his pen not expended upon notes and essays, corresponding with his ever loving and miraculously ever patient sibling. A sibling, who, for her part, had become somewhat accustomed to her brother’s habit of sharing his thoughts and musings in these interminable scrawlings. She, to her credit, maintained the habit of reading and responding to them in a timely fashion. Albeit whilst also maintaining the necessary habit of skim reading some of the more self-indulgent philosophical musings, of the type that this particular missive threatened to become.¨

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Hljóðbók: 12 januari 2024