Tim Farrington

“ For the rest of the afternoon, Rebecca wandered around the house tidying up halfheartedly, feeling bereft and disoriented, trying to balance impassive mass of all the ordinary things of her life with her sense that everything had changed. Inevitably, the weightless moments with Mike began to seem unreal. All her furniture said that love was a bubble and a fluke. ”

Tim Farrington, The Monk Downstairs
tags: love
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The Monk Downstairs The Monk Downstairs by Tim Farrington
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