Burger's Daughter (2011)
Burger's Daughter
“I spend less time with you; you understand that sort of priority well. You were the one who said, Chabalier, why go home—stay tonight and we can make an early start in the morning. The little expeditions to show me something of the country are arranged by the two of you, now. The big bed in the room you gave me—the room I’ll be able to keep the sense of in the moments before I have to open my eyes in other places, as Dick Terblanche knew the proportions of his grandfather’s dining-table when he... couldn’t remember poetry in solitary confinement—the bed in my lovely room is intended for two people. Once dragged shut the heavy old black door doesn’t let through the sounds you have known so well, yourself. If they are audible through the windows they merge with the night traffic of motorbikes and nightingales. When the three of us have breakfast together in the sun before he goes off to his work I notice you make up your eyes and brush your hair out of respect for male presence and as an aesthetic delicacy of differentiation from the stage in life of a young woman in perfect lassitude and carelessness of sensuality—I can’t help yawning till the tears come to my eyes, thirsty and hungry (you buy croissants filled with almond paste to satisfy and indulge me), spilling over in affection towards you a bounty I can afford to be generous with.MoreLess
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