The Journals Of John Cheever (Vintage International) - Plot & Excerpts
No toothache, and I wake feeling very happily horny. I trust the year will end this way. We walk to the F.s’, where we are shown home movies of the Cairo bazaar and where much that is said seems to have been said before. My little camera is my memory, etc. Later, just before dark, I go to see S., a pleasant woman, with an open fire, who gives me whiskey. A drunken scene, for which I am heartily sorry. I claim again that the Sunday Times derails me. Shovel snow, walk the dogs over the hill. Mary’s sister calls and when I say she’s in Chappaqua she says, “Oh, I’m terribly sorry. Did they let her come home for Christmas?” “Chappaqua,” I say, “is the next village.” “Oh,” says she, “I thought it was a rest home.” • Drinking with R. and S. and M., I seem to glimpse—no more—the fact that I can be difficult, ungainly, prone to flare up at trifling misunderstandings. I think of my brother, examine what I remember of his conduct and misconduct, since the end of his marriage resembled in some ways mine.
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