During that first summer of work, we received a phone call from a guy who was hosting a big family get-together on the next Saturday. Could we come over Friday and clean the place up – make it shine?
But, sometimes, often maybe, it’s good to remember that the universe rolls on in mysterious and enormous ways. With or without a person to notice.
It’s been ten years since my Father died. He called on a Saturday morning when I was sorting stamps to tell me that he had gone to the emergency room the night before.
It surprises people – even people who have read the books – that Knausgaard’s My Struggle is meant to be fiction. Novels.