I could sit in the quiet for hours if that is what the class demanded.
On my way out, Morrie stops me. “You didn’t say much today,” he remarks.
“I don’t know. I just didn’t have anything to add.” “I think you have a lot to add.”
“In fact, Mitch, you remind me of someone I knew who also liked to keep things to himself when he was younger.” Who? “Me.”
The Second Tuesday We Talk About Feeling Sorry for Yourself
I came back the next Tuesday. And for many Tuesdays that followed.
I looked forward to these visits more than one would think,
considering I was flying seven hundred miles to sit alongside a dying man.
But I seemed to slip into a time warp when I visited Morrie, and I liked myself better when I was there.
I no longer rented a cellular phone for the rides from the airport.
“Let them wait,” I told myself, mimicking Morrie. The newspaper situation in Detroit had not improved.
In fact, it had grown increasingly insane, with nasty confrontations between picketers and replacement workers,
전체재생
다음페이지
문장검색