The architecture of the Minotaur's heart is ancient. Rough hewn and many chambered, his heart is a plodding laborious thing, built for churning through the millennia. But the blood it pumps—the blood it has pumped for nearly five thousand years, the blood it will pump for the rest of his life—is nearly human blood. It carries with it, through his monster's veins, the weighty, necessary, terrible stuff of human existence: fear, wonder, hope, wickedness, love. But in the Minotaur's world it is far easier to kill and devour seven virgins year after year, their rattling bones rising at his feet like a sea of cracked ice, than to accept tenderness and return it.

Godt sagt! (2) Varsle Svar

Sist sett

alpakkaAnne-Stine Ruud HusevågCarine OlsrødTore HalsaHarald AndersenPiippokattaSt. YngheadStine SevilhaugVannflaskeBerit RElin Katrine NilssenCathrine PedersenHelenesiljehusmorHildNina J.B.KristineTorill RevheimBruno BilliaertRandiAHildaGladleserKjerstiMargrethe  HaugenStein KippersundTonje SivertsenReidun SvensliLeseaaseHilde Merete GjessingNicolai Alexander StyveIngebjørgBertyKirsten LundJulie StensethRisRosOgKlagingmarvikkisLilleviSvein Erik Francke-EnersenBjørg L.Ellen E. Martol