I miss the sandstorm in my memory, Reivew on The English Patient

Everyone dies, he dies with his love and the taste he once swallowed. Die with the bodies that have received their souls, surging like sweat. And like a cold cave, he died with the fear deep in his heart. And all of this will be deeply imprinted on those who are still alive.

Real borders are not borders drawn by the strong. That is what she yearns for, a paradise without borders. So she believed that he would come, to take her there and walk hand in hand with it.

The sand was flying all over the sky, and the dust that had been obscured in the two hearts was wiped away and disappeared without a trace. The lights were out, and in the darkness he left his last words. Then look forward to being able to never stop, along the way, in tears, saying goodbye.

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