What has Alice told Lily, who will want to know everything? She seemed tired and out of sorts now, and climbed wearily out of the car and led the way to the side door. Had I used cake-mix in the last week? Circles of rouge blazed on her thin cheeks. Climb in, she said, gesturing toward the passenger side. I looked once more at the high school surrounded by empty playing fields. The answer remains individual opinion. She says you always kept a journal.
For your supper there are sandwiches left over from lunch in the fridge. It reminded me of the grand railroad station in Kiev that we passed through on our way to Canada. Sir Walter Raleigh ~ ~. Through a further door, white tiles gleamed in the lavatory. Our cathedral, where we attend mass and sometimes evensong, Mrs. I came back to reality and stared down at my hands.
It would make a welcome change as an anthem. Why had I ever confided that to Alice? We wore them for the first time to church in Schoenwese. But from this earth, this grave, this dust, My God shall raise me up, I trust. The conductor swung down from the coach, a small stool in hand, its carpeting of dark wine and olive green worn down by the feet of many travellers. I finally hung up on that girl. A peaceful and uplifting meditation on death and the afterlife, with softly overlapping upper voices that weave a hypnotic texture over a gentle melody in the tenors and basses, to magical effect.
I held out my hand. Of course it never hurts to look your best, does it? The story of Benny Lee, whose family on both sides came of English farming stock, who, after the death of his ineffectual, pedagogic father, went to work on a farm and was happy. The information we provided is prepared by means of a special computer program. Sir Walter Raleigh is listed among the classical poets. My new life had begun. Strachan looked at me and raised her eyebrows in question. I looked at the steep roof of the station and its drab red walls, at the galvanized milk cans in the baggage cart.
That will be all now, she said as if she was reading instructions from a book. I was wearing the white blouse she had trimmed with lace and under my skirt, peach silk panties swished between my thighs. Good evening, my father greeted the conductor, switching to English. One tall wooden door stood half-open but no light shone behind the stained glass windows. A swirl of dust eddied above the cinders of the station platform. Clear thinking Marjorie abets him in his plans, marries him and dies in childbirth together with her baby. Strachan - and who I was - Anna, the new maid.
Last night her voice on the telephone had sounded quite grown up. I thought of my father. I was glad he could not understand our German conversation. In the next window, gold watches glittered on dark velvet and in another, china bowls and plates and silver teapots multiplied themselves in a mirrored wall. Suitcase in hand I stumbled up first one flight of unfamiliar stairs and then another and found the one lone room at the top of this alien house. My heart fluttered in my throat.
From the little round window of my room I looked out over the treetops. I was Anna Heppner before I married. Slipping and sliding in the icy ruts of the driveway, the prairie sky behind her streaked rose and violet with the morning rays of the sun. She brushed a powder puff over her proud of my suit. I would tell him tomorrow when he came for his daily visit. They are stacked on a shelf of the linen closet in this retirement home where I now live.
Deaf and dumb besides old, she probably thought. Your room is right at the top. The sound of her clipped English words tended to disappear into the cavernous dome of the station. In this house I was high, high, up in the sky. Good luck in your poetry interpretation practice! Now the journals, one for each year, gather dust. If you buy a book by clicking on one of these links I receive a small commission.