My cheeks, which were as full and blossoming as they were when I was a baby, would gently rest on the cushy cheeks of my pillow. Or I might light a match to check my watch. almost midnight The time when an invalid who must travel and stay in a strange hotel awakens in the middle of a sickness and is relieved to find a sliver of daylight peeking beneath his bedroom door.
Oh, my goodness! Morning has come. The servants will arrive shortly; he only needs to call, and someone will come to take care of him. He has the willpower to tolerate his suffering because of the notion of being made comfortable. He is positive that he heard footsteps as they drew closer before disappearing. Under his door, the light source is extinguished.
I would often wake up for brief periods of time, just long enough to hear the wainscot’s familiar creaking or to open my eyes and calm the fluttering kaleidoscope of the night, to briefly appreciate the sleep that lay heavy upon the furniture, the room, and the entire surroundings—of which I was but a small part—and whose unconsciousness I would very soon return to share.
PDF Name: In Search of Lost Time PDF Book
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