Those early days with him were like riding an empty train to an unknown destination. There was an obscure logic about it. She felt caught up in something she had no instruments to measure. As always, part of her stood on a hill watching, resentful at this being ‘carried away’ down the tracks into who knew what.
Everyone carries a room about inside him. This fact can even be proved by means of the sense of hearing. If someone walks fast and one pricks up one's ears and listens, say in the night, when everything round about is quiet, one hears, for instance, the rattling of a mirror not quite firmly fastened to the wall.
Notes for a fragmentary novel entitled The Moment, linked at the top of the page.
- Follow Notes from a Room on WordPress.com