It becomes darker and darker every minute. In the little corner the man reads his book until he struggles with increasing difficulty to see the words. The commas become periods and the periods become invisible. But he doesn't want, at least for now, to turn the lights on. It's quite special, really, to be reading until the darkness takes over everything and one can no longer see anything.
J.D. Salinger's The Catcher in the Rye. Yet another heroic novel written by a very reclusive, very sensitive man. My mother has gone shopping, my father has gone to a wake, and my brother has gone out with his friends. Before they left, Mommy asked if I wanted to follow her. I said no, only because I knew that I would be reading my book until it turns dark today. So the world spins on, and in dark little rooms some men hide in the shadows of their existences not really wanting to be found. Not for today, at least.
J.D. Salinger's The Catcher in the Rye. Yet another heroic novel written by a very reclusive, very sensitive man. My mother has gone shopping, my father has gone to a wake, and my brother has gone out with his friends. Before they left, Mommy asked if I wanted to follow her. I said no, only because I knew that I would be reading my book until it turns dark today. So the world spins on, and in dark little rooms some men hide in the shadows of their existences not really wanting to be found. Not for today, at least.
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