（外文电子版资料）Alexander Jablokov - Fragments Of A Painted Eggshell.pdfVIP

FRAGMENTS OF A PAINTED EGGSHELL Alexander Jablokov Im not sure what you mean, Paula said, leafing through the immense stack of letters that had somehow come to be covering her kitchen counter. Which old postcard are you talking about? She tapped and aligned the envelopes, making them seem orderly. Well, any of them...but there is one specific one Im thinking of. Marks voice sounded hollow. He did insist on using that ancient heavy-handset phone, bought at some long-ago yard sale. Hed gotten it after the divorce, good riddance, and Paula had replastered the spot on the kitchen where it had hung. She wore a headset, and could move around as she cooked dinner. Mark had never been able to recognize the simplest solutions to things. She started to open the letters with the cleaver, but quit when she saw how much red bell pepper she was getting all over everything. Besides, she should really finish chopping the pepper before she got to anything else. A postcard from France. She wandered from the kitchen into her office to look for a letter opener. Yes, thats right. Only something really important would make him call outside their usual schedule for sharing out Rues time. So what was it about the postcards Mark had sent her while they were still dating that made her ex-husband desperate enough to talk to her? I just threw all that old stuff in boxes, she said, distracted by the Billable Accounts file displayed on her computer screen. She plopped down in her work chair, throwing the stack of letters into the overflowing To Do box on the floor, and started looking through the active accounts. I wasnt in much of a mood to be too orderly. I dont even know if I still have any of it. You have it. Could you please take a look? Sure, sure There were some extra hours to be billed on the Hammersly house -- Paula Pursang Construction had completely redesigned their moldings three times now. Easy mone