They spent hours strolling along the beach in the dying days of summer.
What are dying days?
In the context of the sentence above, they are the dwindling days or the last days of summer. They represent that period of transition from the pleasant season of summer to the chill winds of autumn – announcing the imminent approach of winter coldness. Continue reading “Dying days”
He watched them walk to the bus stop and catch a bus into the city.
They would not be back for hours.
He entered the yard by the side gate. There was one large window in the rear wall of the house. It was shut. A gentle slide with his gloved hand revealed that it was not locked. The window opened into an open-plan kitchen. He stepped through into a cool interior, saturated with the smell of the bacon and eggs they’d shared for breakfast.
I walked to the bus stop and there it was – on the ground, under the seat. An envelope with her name on it, torn along the long edge, with a letter inside. Unresisting, I extracted the paper and read his words to her.
What a jerk, I thought. He didn’t even have the courage to confront her and confess his reasons for desertion.
When I’d read his excuses for leaving her to bring up their kids, I understood why she had discarded the letter or not exercised sufficient care to keep it safe.
If you’re anything like me, you prefer a murder mystery to be solved by the time you get to the end of the book. Even if the sleuth doesn’t work it out, you expect the author to reveal who did the deed and why.