At the rate the moths were feeding on his neckwear, he would soon be tieless. He had received an eviction notice, and in three weeks he would be homeless. Here Qwilleran ate his breakfast without tasting it, and considered his four problems: At the moment he was womanless. Then he spread a paper napkin on a table in a side window where the urban sun, filtered through smog, emphasized the bleakness of the furnished apartment.
He dredged a doughnut from a crumb-filled canister that was beginning to smell musty. Using hot water from the tap, he made a cup of instant coffee with brown lumps floating on the surface. Jim Qwilleran prepared his bachelor breakfast with a look of boredom and distaste, accentuated by the down-curve of his bushy moustache.
0 kommentar(er)
