von Thomas E. Wunsch

Foto © Thomas E. Wunsch

It was the same child - the same frail, honey-hued shoulders, the same silky supple bare back, the same chestnut head
of hair. A (…) kerchief tied around her chest hid from my aging ape eyes, but not from the gaze of young memory, the
juvenile breasts I had fondled one immortal day...”
(Valdimir Nabokov, Lolita, Part 1, Chapter 10)