Apocalypsis

I turn you in my fingers like amethyst. But no. I only have to walk about and, as though through a magic mirror of dusted crystal, which is Prague itself, I see a man, his expression all excitement, a man whose fate is to find himself and wander, a man whose fate is to find himself through wandering.
Vitezslav Nezval (Walker of Prague)
image et texte, ici sur le blog d'une certaine... Alina Reyes