Loading...
It was raining.
Karon stood by the billiard table in his sleepwear, a glass of ice water in hand as he stared out at the curtain of rain.
The view was, in truth, quite beautiful.
He glanced at the book he had been reading that afternoon, now face down on the coffee table, York City in the Rain.
It was the work of a realist author. The protagonist was a child laborer. At first, he loved rainy days, thinking of the rain as free-flowing notes of music. Later, he grew numb to them. Endless, high-intensity labor robbed him of any sense of weather. Along with it went holidays, and even the distinction between day and night. In the end, after his mother died of illness, he howled in the mud under a torrential downpour.
The author depicted a cold York City. In the rain, grime washed down from the towering buildings. Those standing above enjoyed a sense of “freshness” and “tranquility,” but the filth did not just vanish. It flowed downward, pooling at the feet of those below, becoming the mire they were forced to struggle through.
Karon felt that this perfectly matched his current state.
His bedroom had a heating system similar to underfloor heating. With the window open, the cold wind blowing in neatly offset the excess warmth indoors. When the rain could not wet your hair or soak your shoes, of course you would find it beautiful.
“Want some fruit?” Eunice entered carrying a plate of fruit. She was wearing a long white dress.
“Sure.” Karon stepped down from the billiard platform to sit on the sofa. The apple had been peeled...
Unlock free chapters every day
Bookmark your novel and never lose track of your progress
Share your thoughts with your favorite translator in the comments.
