Читать книгу Of Things Gone Astray - Janina Matthewson - Страница 26

DELIA LAY IN BED THAT night, still embarrassed about how wildly she’d got lost. There weren’t all that many things she prided herself on these days, but her unerring sense of direction was one of them, and it was something she needed.

Most of her days were spent in the same way, in the same place. She’d grown to rely on being able to escape, to wander in any direction for as long as she needed to, being fully confident that she’d have no trouble finding her way back when she needed to. Admitting to this tiny failure was somehow more difficult than admitting to all the giant ones.

Although she wasn’t yet aware of it, and would never fully figure it out, a very specific thing was happening to Delia, and had been happening for years. The morning’s unwanted adventure was nothing more than the latest in a slow decline that had been precipitated by a small van full of tea and biscuits running a red light when Delia was 147 words away from finishing her dissertation.

Those 147 words had never been written.