2021-03-02 03:37:25
And there she was, just a glimpse of her as she turned away and disappeared around the back of the house with the old man. It was only a second or two, from fifty yards away, but he had no doubt it was her, and this instant recognition of her features, her stride, her bearing, astonished him.
He backed up and opened the car door, then stopped. How could he just show up at her door? But why not? What was wrong with the direct approach? Phoning her or dropping her a note was not what he'd pictured in his mind. He thought it was important that he should just ring her doorbell and say,
"Hello, Annie," and let whatever happened happen, spontaneously and without rehearsal.
But what if she had company? What if her kids were home, or her husband? Why hadn't he thought of that likely possibility even once when he replayed this scene over and over again through the years? Obviously, the imagined moment had become so real that he'd excluded anything that would have ruined it.
'Spencerville' (p. 38)
@preciouslove
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