Lost love.

Jeg sitrerer:

"She stood very still. Twice in the year she had lived in this flat she had locked herself in here: squeezing herself into the corner behind the door and crying till she could not breathe. Twice he had not come looking for her, and when she had finally crept out, exhausted, she had found him comfortable within his cloud of blue smoke in the livingroom, reading, with Bob Dylan on the record player. The bad times seem to have been a succession of bathrooms. Hotel bathrooms all over the world had seen her locked in, head over the bowl, crying, or simply sitting on the tiled floor reading through the night while he slept alone, unknowing, in large double beds that mocked her."

Fra novellen "Returning" - i novelleantologien "I think of you" av Ahdaf Soueif.

Velsignet.
Løp og kjøp.