Zero Summer » książka
Zero Summer
ISBN-13: 9781861711151 / Angielski / Miękka / 2008 / 252 str.
ZERO SUMMER: A NOVEL In Britain of the near-future, a nuclear war is imminent. As society falls to pieces, two people meet and fall intensely in love. This is a powerful erotic and poetic novel, written in a heightened, lyrical style which combines romance with action, beauty and death. EXTRACT FROM CHAPTER ONE It was on a Summer's evening that we met. Everything was full of light - the long, sloping light of Mid-West America. But in England. Into this golden light you walked. The seafront was deserted. Soft breezes blew in from the ocean. I had been living for days in the opulence of this water, this rich spice of water, heat, seagulls and wide-open spaces. Water washed our feet as we spoke on the sand. The sun was still hot. You were wearing a cotton Summer dress, white with green spots. I couldn't keep my eyes off you. The day had begun with rain, I remember. Now the sky was turning lilac. In the heat of the day the beaches had been full of tourists and sun-bathers. Now it was teatime and Great Britain shuffled indoors, to eat, to flop down, to watch TV. I was being my usual romantic self, wandering along the shore, enjoying the melancholy emptiness of the sunlit promenade. And you were there.
ZERO SUMMER: A NOVEL
In Britain of the near-future, a nuclear war is imminent. As society falls to pieces, two people meet and fall intensely in love.
This is a powerful erotic and poetic novel, written in a heightened, lyrical style which combines romance with action, beauty and death.
EXTRACT FROM CHAPTER ONE
It was on a Summers evening that we met. Everything was full of light - the long, sloping light of Mid-West America. But in England.
Into this golden light you walked. The seafront was deserted. Soft breezes blew in from the ocean. I had been living for days in the opulence of this water, this rich spice of water, heat, seagulls and wide-open spaces. Water washed our feet as we spoke on the sand. The sun was still hot.
You were wearing a cotton Summer dress, white with green spots. I couldnt keep my eyes off you.
The day had begun with rain, I remember. Now the sky was turning lilac. In the heat of the day the beaches had been full of tourists and sun-bathers. Now it was teatime and Great Britain shuffled indoors, to eat, to flop down, to watch TV.
I was being my usual romantic self, wandering along the shore, enjoying the melancholy emptiness of the sunlit promenade. And you were there.
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