The Course of the Heart
“I remembered them guiltily when I was tired or depressed. Though I never had much faith in their solution, which made me think of two monkeys huddled together at the back of a cage on a cold day, I allowed myself to be lulled by it. It was easier to assume they were happy. Of course I knew nothing about the story they had begun to tell one another; it would be nearly twenty years before I found out about “Michael Ashman” and the Search for the Heart. About a year after the wedding I moved to Lo...ndon, which I’d always wanted to do. Work—in the editorial department of an independent company specializing in reprints from American academic presses—kept me busy. For five or six years after that my life was my own. Then it all came to bits again.
Late May, Westminster Bridge, sudden gusts of wind like bad predictions from the City. A northbound Number 12 stopped briefly at St. Thomas’s Hospital to let an old man get on. He hesitated at the curb and looked up briefly, his face a blur.MoreLess
Late May, Westminster Bridge, sudden gusts of wind like bad predictions from the City. A northbound Number 12 stopped briefly at St. Thomas’s Hospital to let an old man get on. He hesitated at the curb and looked up briefly, his face a blur.MoreLess
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