It is an interesting story. Depressing though, but interesting. The story is told from the point of view of the narrator. The narrator is preparing a list of things to buy for the upcoming winter when her husband enters the room. She asks for some money to buy some winter wear when her husband breaks the news.
“O.K., fine. But, listen, first I have something to tell you. It’s like this. During the factory outing to Netanya, a month ago—you remember—when you didn’t feel like going with me, I met this woman there, and afterward it turned out that we kept seeing each other, and now, well, I’ve decided to leave you, even though I’m very sorry about it. Honestly. But what can I do, Bracha? I just have no choice.”
Her husband has found another woman to spend rest of his life and he would like to divorce the narrator. Thus begins the cloud of insincere confident and lackluster in the narrator’s life.
She begins to roll all the past scenarios in her head like a film to point out exactly the moment when she drove her husband away. She thinks of all the moments that could have been the start of their breakup. There are questions that she would like to know answer to. Not that it would help her in any way.
After all, it won’t be much help to me to know the truth, but I would like to know, anyway, if he loves her or if it’s all about sex, and if he still loves me a little bit, and if he ever loved me at all? At least in the very beginning? When he still called me sweetie pie?
There is a some reality in the story. The emotions are captures bang on! The narrator is shocked with the news initially. She tries to cheer herself up, thinking it will pass too. But slowly as the days go by she coms in terms with the reality.
It is a heart-breaking, beautiful story.
Read the complete story on The New Yorker
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