Broken: Karin Fossum
He relaxes his shoulders. Gives me a sidlong glance.
"I guess I'm a complete nuisance," he says. "I suppose I ought to be pleased about what you've done so far rather than throw a wrench in the works. That was never my intention. That really was not what I meant at all."
"You're not a wrench in the works. We're a team now, you and I-it's called letting things happen. You have no experience of that and that's why you're afraid. So am I-I live with it every day. But my heart is still beating, as is my pulse: the minutes pass one by one. The sun will come up tomorrow, I'm absolutely certain of that. I really do pity mankind," I say. "We don't have the ability to live in the moment. Soon other things will happen, difficult things-they will happen tonight or next week. And even though we're not there yet, our thoughts race ahead like horses through an open gate. In other words, only genuine contemplation can stop this clock inside us ticking toward our death. A painting, a piece of music, an engrossing book, a chat with a good friend. Bad things will always happen, but they are not going to happen today. Because today the sun is shining and we get out of bed. We put our feet on the floor and breathe. There is actually a good deal of courage in you, Alwar, I'm absolutely convinced of that. But, of course, I'm worried that you've chosen to isolate yourself. If something goes wrong, you've got no one to turn to. Do you ener think about that? Do you understand what that means?"
His eyes become distant; they seek out the window.
"I've been thinking a great deal about dying," he admits. "Who will arrange my fineral, will anyone mourn me? Who'll clear out my flat, what will happen to my furniture and all my other belongings? But then again, I'm only forty-two. And all sorts of things might happen before I grow old. I hope that time will take care of it for me."
"It won't," I say gravely. "If you want things to change, you have to change them yourself. I'm with y ou all the way, but I rely on you grabbing the opportunities I give you. Otherwise we're never going to get anywhere. Do you understand what I'm saying to you?"
He gets up and goes over to the window. He stares out across Lier valley.
"You authors are a funny lot,"he says with his back to me.
"No, we're like most people. We work hard, we have a profession. We have office hours, we toil."
"I guess I'm a complete nuisance," he says. "I suppose I ought to be pleased about what you've done so far rather than throw a wrench in the works. That was never my intention. That really was not what I meant at all."
"You're not a wrench in the works. We're a team now, you and I-it's called letting things happen. You have no experience of that and that's why you're afraid. So am I-I live with it every day. But my heart is still beating, as is my pulse: the minutes pass one by one. The sun will come up tomorrow, I'm absolutely certain of that. I really do pity mankind," I say. "We don't have the ability to live in the moment. Soon other things will happen, difficult things-they will happen tonight or next week. And even though we're not there yet, our thoughts race ahead like horses through an open gate. In other words, only genuine contemplation can stop this clock inside us ticking toward our death. A painting, a piece of music, an engrossing book, a chat with a good friend. Bad things will always happen, but they are not going to happen today. Because today the sun is shining and we get out of bed. We put our feet on the floor and breathe. There is actually a good deal of courage in you, Alwar, I'm absolutely convinced of that. But, of course, I'm worried that you've chosen to isolate yourself. If something goes wrong, you've got no one to turn to. Do you ener think about that? Do you understand what that means?"
His eyes become distant; they seek out the window.
"I've been thinking a great deal about dying," he admits. "Who will arrange my fineral, will anyone mourn me? Who'll clear out my flat, what will happen to my furniture and all my other belongings? But then again, I'm only forty-two. And all sorts of things might happen before I grow old. I hope that time will take care of it for me."
"It won't," I say gravely. "If you want things to change, you have to change them yourself. I'm with y ou all the way, but I rely on you grabbing the opportunities I give you. Otherwise we're never going to get anywhere. Do you understand what I'm saying to you?"
He gets up and goes over to the window. He stares out across Lier valley.
"You authors are a funny lot,"he says with his back to me.
"No, we're like most people. We work hard, we have a profession. We have office hours, we toil."