Contemporary Literature

An Ocean Apart by Robin Pilcher

By Robin Pilcher

For 6 dreadful months, David Corstorphine has attempted to come back to phrases along with his younger wife's dying, whereas taking care of his 3 motherless little ones. test as he could, David is not able to come to paintings, and his in simple terms kind of solace comes from operating within the backyard of his parents' property within the Scottish countryside.

Dispatched all at once to ny, David's relatives hopes that the impromptu business journey may help him come again on his toes. however the trip proves either disastrous and heartening. David unearths himself settling in conveniently one of the strangers of a beach ny city, and takes a role as a gardener. however it is the folks he meets, the discomfort he confronts, and the enjoyment he's capable of once more adventure that turn out to be magically transformative-- and as David learns to simply accept his huge, immense loss, he's capable of open his middle to like once more.

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It was already hot and I had missed half the day. My balcony was now bare and I had no cover from the people walking back and forth. Sweeping, 56 / How to Get Into tHe twIn Palms walking, dogs shitting. I stared out toward The Calcutta. There were red and blue cups littering the front yard. There were Christmas lights blinking on and off on the top railing. I shook my head and sat down. I stared down to my cigarette-hiding place and saw that they were gone too. ” My neighbor with the homemade haircut was leaning into my balcony from his mother’s balcony.

That was the kind of girl he wanted me to be. Karolina WaclaWiaK / 55 I WOKE UP LATE. I DIDN’T HAVE ANYWHERE TO go anyway. My head hurt and I had forgotten to wash my face. My eyes hurt from the caked on makeup and my skin felt slick. I went to the bathroom and took a look at myself. I thanked God that I hadn’t let Lev in. I wiped the soot caked around my eye and looked at my nails. Cracked polish, chipped like skylines and worn down to nubs. They hurt and were inflamed. I poured hydrogen peroxide over each finger.

A kabanos. I didn’t care who saw me. The sausage was dry because I had left it unwrapped in the refrigerator and it tasted like jerky. I had a jar of horseradish next to me and I would dip the sausage into the jar and pull out a clump at the tip and eat it. That mixed with the cigarette I was furiously inhaling made my breath hot and sour. I leaned back in my chair and heard a creak and snap. The crack at the bottom of the chair was getting worse and I didn’t care. I snuffed out the Misty and started another one.

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