Raven
@Raveneanias
Kendi halinde kendince kitaplarına âşık bir okurum sadece
Edmond Jabes'in dediği gibi: Umut belki de gelecek sayfadadır. Kapatma kitabı.
In libris libertas
What were we, then? In ten years I have not found an adequate word to describe us.
Reklam
“This was your room?” Behind me, Colborne is looking up at the ceiling, the faraway central point where all the beams converge, like spokes on a wheel. “You and Farrow.”
“Yes, James and I.”
Colborne’s eyes slowly descend and find my face. He shakes his head. “The two of you. I never understood it.”
“Neither did we. It was easier not to.”
The door is barely cracked, as if one of us, twenty-something, left it open in our rush to get to the theatre, Studio Five, the Bore’s Head, wherever. For one instant I wonder if James is waiting on the other side.
Frederick lowered himself into the chair that James usually occupied. “Look at me, please, Oliver,” he said, sternly but softly. I raised my eyes. “Now. Tell me what’s wrong.”
“Everyone’s—” I shook my head as I shredded the napkin with seared and smarting fingertips. “We’re all falling apart.”
I knew by then the way the story went. Our little drama was rapidly hurtling toward its climactic crisis. What next, when we reached the precipice?
First, the reckoning. Then, the fall.
The world reeled as they hoisted me up, and I hoped dully that I’d lose consciousness and never wake up again.
Reklam