Explore "Serapion" by Francis Stevens on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
I WALKED into a dusty-green triangle of turfed and gravel-walked space, smitten with hot, yellow light from the west, where the June sun sank slowly down a clear, light-blue sky. Behind me across a narrow street rose the stark, gray wall beyond which a certain man would never pass into the sunshine again.
He is in the shadow; I am in the sun.