Waiting for the Flood

Waiting for the Flood (2018) Alexis Hall (Spires)

I got into another funk–nothing was working for me. Everything was meh and nothing drew me in.

So I dove back into a favorite, and (as happens every single time I reread this) was shocked by how good and how beautiful it is.

Edwin repairs and restores old books. It is the bits where he talks about what he does and how much he loves what he does that are so magical to me.

What I like are diaries and letters, commonplace books and ledgers, calendars, invitations and almanacs: the everyday documents of nobody in particular. Ephemera, it’s called. From the Greek. Like those frail-legged mayflies, with their lace-and-stained-glass wings, who live only for a day.

But beyond the beauty of that, is the description of life and the world.

Life is so full of rough edges— small tasks and expectations that scratch you bloody and remind you that you’re naked and alone.

That is how I have felt since the pandemic started, but even more so for the past year, as I struggled to retain a some semblance of a life, over the shambles my mental state had become.

This story is perfect, reminding me that live is lived in the day-to-day pieces we don’t even think about.

A reminder to live life.

This is the story of my life: standing on the edges of things and worrying, when I’m supposed to just walk through them.

This story was everything I need to be reminded of about life. The still and quiet parts. The joy of words and language.

Rating: 9/10

• Browse the archives:
  
• The Remaking of Corbin Wale » »
• « « In a Treacherous Court