Archive for the '32 Years Old' Category

Thirty-Two Year Old – Richard

They’re serious eyes, that’s the first thing you notice about them, and they shine in the soft light reflected upwards from the tabletop beneath the shaded tablelamp. The pupils stand wide in the half-darkness, and in each of them is a tiny man. This tiny man fits into the pupil most perfectly, like a jewel into a jewel-case. His appearance is striking. He reminds me of a small golden cloud left in a clear evening sky, or a smile left in the bathroom mirror. No description of her would be complete without a complete description of him, so I’ll start with his eyes, since they always seem to be looking at me. They never blink, either. They’re not so serious as hers, but they also shine in the soft upward light, and the pupils are wide. But what makes them immediately recognizable is that in each pupil is a little woman. Now, no description of the little man could ever be exhaustive unless it included a description of the little woman in his pupils…

I’m sorry about all this. It’s probably because it’s the fourteenth of the month. Which, as psychiatrists now recognize, is three days after the eleventh.

She’s forty-four, you know. Quite matronly. Wears spectacles to read. Doesn’t laugh – never laughs.

I’m thirty-two. Thin as a sheet of paper. Have to keep my spectacles on until my face is about sixty centimetres from hers. Enjoy an occasional laugh.

Michael Frayn, The Trick of It

Published in: 32 Years Old | on May 24th, 2010 | No Comments »

Thirty-Two Year Old – Molly Bloom

 

…I must do a few breathing exercises I wonder is that antifat any good might overdo it thin ones are not so much the fashion now garters that much I have the violet pair I wore today thats all he bought me out of the cheque he got on the first O no there was the face lotion I finished that last of yesterday that made my skin like new I told him over and over again get that made up in the same place and dont forget it God only knows whether he did after all I said to him Ill know by the bottle anyway if not I suppose Ill only have to wash in my piss like beeftea or chickensoup with some of that opoponax and violet I thought it was beginning to look coarse or old a bit the skin underneath is much finer where it peeled off there on my finger after the burn it’s a pity it isnt all like that and the four paltry handkerchiefs about 6/- in all sure you cant get on in this world without style all going in food and rent when I get it Ill lash it around I tell you in fine style I always want to throw a handful of tea into the pot measuring and mincing if I buy a pair of old brogues itself do you like those new shoes yes how much were they Ive no clothes at all the brown costume and the skirt and jacket and the one at the cleaners 3 whats that for any woman cutting up this old hat and patching up the other men wont look at you and women try to walk on you because they know youve no man then with all the things getting dearer every day for 4 years more I have of life up to 35 no Im what am I at all Ill be 33 in September will I O well look at that Mrs Galbraith shes much older than me I saw her when I was out last week her beautys on the wane she was a lovely woman…

James Joyce, Ulysses

Published in: 32 Years Old | on May 24th, 2010 | No Comments »