Atonement

I'm less angry now.

"The weird way we have chosen to live our odd and fragrent little lives". This from a friend of mine in regards to this strange journey of life we muddle on through. The forks, the turns, the surprising outcomes--who among us could have ever seen them coming?

I've arrived at the final part of Atonement, set in 1999, fifty-nine years after Part One. Our heroine, who for many chapters of the book existed as something of an anti-heroine, has reached the dimming if her twilight years. She takes a cab ride through London en route to a museum. Each street, each nook, each stately building, holds a specific memory for her. She can't escape them. She's grown too old for anonymity.

At the risk of sounding self-important, I feel that way sometimes about this city. DC--and New York--hold a lot of stories for me, though each place has factored in for less than a decade total in my life.

But the memories are there. Often fond, sometimes dismal. Dreamy encounters, tearful break-ups, surprise reunions, festive times--all pepper the streets of these two cities.

Wow. Who do I think I am? I know, I know, I do.

It's life, it's funny, it's small, it's ironic.

It's life.

And we will lose people and we will find people and we will hold on to people and we will let people go.

I have really enjoyed this book, I have.