
One Summer


So now I sit in an umbrella’s circle of shade on the planked deck of a beach shack, a beer in my hand and a book in my lap, and I look at the people as they come and go and listen to the crash and hiss of the breakers as they curve in, flatten and explode on the sand. I must do this every year, while I have the money and the strength – good for the
... See moreWilliam Boyd • Any Human Heart
