Dream Job

 Quiet enough today.  The wireless was on the blink again.  Fortunately one of the young Hurley lads came over on his bike after lunch and sat in the hut and read Samuel Beckett’s Krapp’s Last Tape to me to while away the afternoon.  A little odd but lovely in spots.  Apparently Mr. Beckett would have been 110 today.  Young Hurley says April 13th was Good Friday when Mr. Beckett was born.   Studious lad.  Full of bits of hard knowledge.   This bit I particularly liked:

Celebrated the awful occasion, as in recent years, quietly at the winehouse. Not a soul. Sat before the fire with closed eyes, separating the grain from the husks. Jotted down a few notes, on the back on an envelope.

 

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