[after looking over her poem]

Auster:
Okay... you tell me.
Meg:
I don't know.
Auster:
Why not? Are you afraid I'm going to tell you your work stinks?
Meg:
Does it?
Auster:
What do you think?
Meg:
Probably. I don't know.
Auster:
Come back when you do.
[rises, starts to leave]

Meg:
It doesn't stink. There's a line that I like.
Auster:
Which one?
Meg:
"Lost leaves spin past the glass, but the trees don't go. They stay by my window."
Auster:
What about the rest of it?
Meg:
I could go deeper.
Auster:
Good for you.
Riportata da il 05/03/2025 alle ore 09:06

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