It could be seen from afar, that it had lived, and been lived in and was its charm, the uncertainty of the white, the change of things, like the change of people, everything that seems permanent and all that dissolved.
If I had a house, it would have lights, which would also make shade, in the evening on the white walls, and the doors would be dark.
In the afternoon
cars are passing in Mumbles
like there’s not jetty