The Country Road

Начало книги

Summer, but a younger summer than this one; the summer back then was no more than my equal in years. True, I still wasn’t happy, not happy to my core, but I had to be in the way that everyone is. The sun set me ablaze. It grazed on the green knoll where I sat, a knoll with an almost sacred form, where I had taken refuge from the dust of the country road. Because I was weary. I was weary because I was alone. This long country road before and behind me. . The bends that it made around this knoll, the poplars — even heaven itself could not relieve it of its bleakness. I was ill at ease, because just a short way into my walk, this road had already dragged me into its misery and squalor. It was an uncanny country road. An all-knowing road. A road reserved for those who had been, in some way, left alone.

I, for my part, unpacked my provisions from my small satchel. The heat had rendered them inedible. I had to throw them away. Not even birds would have wanted them now. So in addition to everything else, this sense of deprivation left me hungry and thirsty. And there was no spring in sight. The knoll alone seemed to conceal the secret of a spring deep within it, beyond my reach. And even if I could have hoped to find a spring nearby, I still wouldn’t have tried to reach it. I was tired and dry of tears, but close to crying.

Читать дальше →