Twisted

I'm reading two books that were written 114 years apart. Patti Smiths Just Kids (2012) and Emile Zola's Paris (1898). I bought the 1898, Chatto & Windus, London, hardback edition on Saturday at a polling booth stall). Different writing styles but I love them both. Actually, I think I prefer Zola, because the subject matter is grim.

I went to the gymnasium this morning and then just managed to get to the 12.15 showing of The Wait (Pierro Messina, 2015) at the Kino. I'm so glad I did. Juliette Binoche and the film's direction was absolutely brilliant. It was well acted, beautiful to look at and exquisitely thoughtful and emotional. On my way home I took a photograph of the silhouette, twisted, naked  trees in the empty Winter park. Need I say more? It's cold outside!