She liked this lifeor more precisely, she liked the version of herself in this life.
She could tell the kind of person she was from the way people spoke to her. It felt nice – comforting, solidifying – to be a good person.
Her mind felt different here. She thought a lot in this life, but her thoughts were gentle.
“Compassion is the basis of morality,” the philosopher Arthur Schopenhauer had written, in one of his softer moments. Maybe it was the basis of life too.
There was one man who worked there called Dylan, who had a natural way with all the dogs. He was about her age, maybe younger.
He had a kind, gentle, sad look about him. His long surf-dude hair golden as a retriever.
He came and sat next to Nora on a bench at lunch, overlooking the field.
“What are you having today?” he asked, sweetly, nodding to Nora’s lunchbox.
She honestly didn’t know – she had found it already prepared when she’d opened her magnet- and calendar-cluttered fridge that morning.
She peeled off the lid to find a cheese and Marmite sandwich and a packet of salt and vinegar crisps.
The sky darkened and the wind picked up. “Oh crap,” Nora said. “It’s going to rain.” “Maybe, but the dogs are all still in their cages.”
“Sorry?” “Dogs can smell when rain is coming, so they often head indoors if they think it’s going to happen.
전체재생
다음페이지
문장검색