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on Nov 11th 2004, 09:53:54, David Copperfield by Charles Dickens wrote the following aboutmoment |
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After a moment of suspense, I went and kissed my mother: she kissed me, patted me gently on the shoulder, and sat down again to her work. I could not look at her, I could not look at him, I knew quite well that he was looking at us both; and I turned to the window and looked out there, at some shrubs that were drooping their heads in the cold.
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Can you think about the opposite of »moment«? Write down how it works! |
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