"Because time, Miss Clara, is a terrible liar. It says it moves forward. But in this garden, it merely spins."
He shook his head. "No, my dear. I am a mirror. I show people what they have lost: the ability to be delightfully useless." El Excentrico Senor Dennet -HQN Inma Aguilera...
Mr. Dennet watched from his window, a tear tracing the map of his wrinkled cheek. "Because time, Miss Clara, is a terrible liar
Mr. Dennet opened the door wearing a velvet robe, a pair of opera glasses around his neck, and one green slipper. "No, my dear
In the heart of the old quarter, where the cobblestones held the memory of every footstep that had ever passed, stood the Dennet House. It did not lean like its neighbors, nor did it wear the same pale, resigned yellow. It was a deep, bruised violet, with windows like knowing eyes.
He hosted "funerals for forgotten objects" in his backyard. He wrote letters to the moon. He once painted his piano blue because, he said, "it was feeling melancholy and needed a new voice."