A Shakespearean Rite Of Passage

Summer night, warm and damp to the point of stickiness. The lights are doused, and the chattering dies down to a trail of whispers. For a handful of moments, I can hear the crickets in the trees all around the theatre. One of those handfuls of…

A Shakespearean Rite Of Passageultima modifica: 2012-04-23T08:16:00+02:00da arteletteratura
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