Book: The Heart is a Lonely Hunter by Carson McCullers. First Published 1940. This edition: Penguin Classics 2008.

Why: There are so many moments that are missed, overlooked. Never stopping to see or be aware of them. And It’s possibly one of the reason’s a writer writes, to slow down and capture those moments, to live in the present. Some people don’t care, and that’s okay, but if you’re like me you do care and when you read them you stop and think, ‘Oh yeah I know that feeling.’ It’s a little epiphany and a nice feeling to think you and the author both get it.

In this case, I’m thinking about something in 2012 that Carson McCullers wrote down in 1940.

 

…it was the hour when men who have been up all night meet those who are freshly wakened and ready to start a new day. The sleepy waitress was serving both beer and coffee. There was no nise or conversation, for each person seemed to be alone. The mutual distrust between the men who were just awakened and those who were ending a long night gave everyone a feeling of estrangement.

Carson McCullers. p30

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