Ona göre ölüm, evin çevresinde dolaşıyor ve içeri girmeye çalışıyordu.
Okur Takip Önerileri
There was majesty and grace in the pace of the swaying branches of the willows. There was kindness. Pain is not the only touchstone for growth, I said to myself. My sleep had worked. I was soft and calm and felt things. This was good. This was my life now.
Reva was like the pills I took. They turned everything, even hatred, even love, into fluff I could bat away. And that was exactly what I wanted—my emotions passing like headlights that shine softly through a window, sweep past me, illuminate something vaguely familiar, then fade and leave me in the dark again.
I thought that if I did normal things—held down a job, for example—I could starve off the part of me that hated everything.
Life was fragile and fleeting and one had to be cautious, sure, but I would risk death if it meant I could sleep all day and become a whole new person.
This was the beauty of sleep—reality detached itself and appeared in my mind as casually as a movie or a dream.
Sırça fanusun içinde ölü bir bebek gibi tıkanıp kalan insan için dünyanın kendisi kötü bir düştür.
