Apples and Eggs

‘Now and then in the grass his foot knocked a dropped apple – he would sigh, stoop rather stiffly, pick up the apple, examine it with the pad of his thumb for bruises and slip it, tenderly as though it had been an egg, into a baggy pocket of his tweed coat. This was not a good apple year.” – Elizabeth Bowen, Summer Night

My ongoing links to an enormous project of gestalt real-time reviewing all the stories of Elizabeth Bowen: https://dflewisreviews.wordpress.com/31260-2/

“All Cousin Janet’s moths kept me awake: their wings made such a flutter behind the glass, till I had to get up and take them off their pins.”

Quite a discovery this partly unfinished GHOST STORY by #ElizabethBowen

My review: https://t.co/sY6zZNnhHc pic.twitter.com/uIohoNdq6T

— Des Lewis (@DF_Lewis) October 24, 2021

#ElizabethBowen Elizabeth Bowen ongoing para-appraisal of #fiction as literary, modernist and genre@irishlittimes @IrishTimes @bowensociety #ghostStory @TheTLS https://t.co/sYI0chG2qg

— Des Lewis (@DF_Lewis) October 24, 2021