The Stories of Paul Bowles
“In the rain the outer courtyard was uninviting. Several dead banana plants had fallen over and been left to rot on the tile floor. Even as old Amina, seeing him from the kitchen doorway, waddled out into the rain to greet him, he was aware of the piles of empty crates, and of the frame of an ancient garden swing looming behind her.
At lunch he tasted his childhood in Amina’s soup. The recipe had not changed; pumpkin and cumin still predominated. All at once he was aware of a cold wind blowing t...hrough the room. He called to Amina: the big window in the kitchen was broken. He reminded her that money had been sent to have it repaired. But the wind had come and blown it in again, she said, and this time they had simply left it that way. He told her to shut the door to the kitchen. When she had done it he could not see that it made any difference.
He went through the rooms. The place was only a shell of the house he remembered. Most of the furniture was gone, and there were no rugs or curtains.MoreLess
At lunch he tasted his childhood in Amina’s soup. The recipe had not changed; pumpkin and cumin still predominated. All at once he was aware of a cold wind blowing t...hrough the room. He called to Amina: the big window in the kitchen was broken. He reminded her that money had been sent to have it repaired. But the wind had come and blown it in again, she said, and this time they had simply left it that way. He told her to shut the door to the kitchen. When she had done it he could not see that it made any difference.
He went through the rooms. The place was only a shell of the house he remembered. Most of the furniture was gone, and there were no rugs or curtains.MoreLess
Read book The Stories of Paul Bowles for free
Write Review:
Guest
Read Also
8 / 10
User Reviews: