Lowell Lake was a tall man， rather thin， with thin sandy hair
and a distant， preoccupied though amiable disposition， as though
the world did not reach him as it reaches other men and all the
voices around him were pleasant but very faint. His attention
was liable to wander off at any time and he was always asking
people to repeat things. He gave the impression that people
bored him， although not in a bad way: actually， they seemed to
lull him. He was frequently discovered half-asleep at his desk，
gazing vacantly out the nearest window.
One morning not long after his thirtieth birthday， Lowell
woke up with the sudden realization that his job was not tempo-
rary. It was as though a fiery angel had visited him in his sleep
with a message of doom， and he leaped from bed in a state bor-
dering on panic， staring wildly about him. His job wasn t tem-
porary and things weren t going to get any better--not that they
were going to get any worse， barring some unforeseen catastro-
phe like atomic warfare or mental illness， but they weren t going
to get any better. That was the whole point. He d found his
level， and here he was， on it. He was the managing editor of a
second-rate plumbing-trade weekly， a job he did adequately if
not with much snap. It was， he realized with a dull kind of
3 ~~
|
内容加载中，请稍后...
商品评论（0条）