Tuesday, June 05, 2007

Friendly face, tale told and light in the window.

1. When I am waiting for a lift, seeing a car coming with a familiar face behind the windscreen.

2. The night is shut out by red checked curtains and deep red sofas. I am drinking wine with fascinating people who tell sparkling stories -- the dancer who married a bigamous waiter; the decorator who was searching for his lost son ('but it won't affect my work'); a French woman who wouldn't let her children speak French; a family that has steadily moved west through the generations.

3. Coming home late, I see from the street that Katie has put the light on in my bedroom. When I get in, I find she has made my bed as well.

2 comments:

  1. # 2 makes you appreciate your own family all the more I'd suspect. It would me, except mine could find a place in the same book, and comprise an entire chapter.

    Dread

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  2. My family spent several generations working their way west, and now they're staying put. It's up to my generation (or my children) to cross the sea again, I suppose. Some of us just can't seem to settle, but still can be such homebodies. Some days I don't even leave the house, but others I travel for miles and miles and miles.

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