This is no time for daydreaming – Young Woman Reading by Samuel Melton Fisher

Young Woman Reading by Samuel Melton Fisher

‘But no (she sits up energetically)—this is no time for daydreaming.’
She has read the sentence for at least the twentieth time. Her mind is tormented and page 68 will not be turned anytime soon. Meredith, comfortably lounging on a cherry pillow reminiscent of the fresh rose bouquet she plucked and arranged herself next to her, is elsewhere.

‘But no (she sits up energetically)—this is no time for daydreaming.’
The perfume of the roses reminds her of the last time she spent with her mother and brother, innocently at the poolside, in the small village of Saint-Paul de Vence in the South of France. It was years ago, but she still remembers the hue of the sky, the smiles and the cries of the vendors selling rose jam to perplexed and curious tourists.

‘But no (she sits up energetically)—this is no time for daydreaming.’
She thinks of lighting up a scented candle. Sensitive to aroma and flavours, she adores the scent of a fresh lit candle. Perhaps she will wait another minute or two, just the time needed to turn page 68.

‘But no (she sits up energetically)—this is no time for daydreaming.’
As her hands gracefully grip the book with grace, her eyes search for the last sentence she has read over and over again. Meredith feels discomfort in her neck and resets her head in the nook of the warm cherry red pillow placed on the rocking chair. She wouldn’t want to untidy her hair. Although she has not planned to visit anyone, she likes her appearance to be impeccable.

‘But no (she sits up energetically)—this is no time for daydreaming.’
She lost it again, and now she wishes that she was able to concentrate. Instead, her chest swells with angst. She sighs to expel worries and concerns, in vain. Despite her calmness, Meredith is a tortured soul who learns day by day how to tame her sorrows.

‘But no (she sits up energetically)—this is no time for daydreaming.’
Sometimes she cannot even get through the entire sentence and has to pause in the middle. At this particular instant, she delicately places the book on her lap, turns her head to her left and picks up a rose. A tear drop runs down her porcelain cheek while a smile opens her eyes. Unfathomable, Meredith has ceased to understand the multiple reasons she acts that way.

As she wipes away her tears, she resumes her reading. ‘But no (she sits up energetically)—this is no time for daydreaming.’

The line is an extract from The Post Office Girl by Stefan Zweig.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

w

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.