The history of love by Nicole Krauss

Bruno, my old faithful. Is it enough to say he is indescribable? The soft down of your white hair lightly playing above your scalp like a half-blown dandelion. I should begin with your height,which is very short. On a good day you barely reach my chest. Or shall I start with the eyeglasses you fished out of a box and claimed as your own, enormous round things that magnify your eyes.

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