‘I’m a Dutch writer working here in Nes on my 5th book. A story about a woman who is told she’s got 3 more months to live. She arranges everything: does her bucket list, stops her subscriptions on magazines and papers, quits her job, makes her will, organizes her funeral. She is ready for it. But she just doesn’t die.
And then the story begins…
Louise withdraws herself little by little from daily life, and starts living during the night. The night doesn’t belong to anybody. The night is more gentle than the daytime. Nothing is over exposed, less questions are asked.
She starts talking to strangers via intercoms. She wakes them up with her questions about life. People appreciate these conversations, and she becomes more and more popular. But still there is a longing.
Nobody knows who she is. And she herself doesn’t know it either any more. How to give life meaning when the count down has already begun?
What stays is the quest for contact. But can contact be regarded as meaningful if you don’t see the people you’re talking to? If everything is indirect? Confessions made through a intercom horn? When can one speak of real contact?
Read Falling time to get the answers. 😉 www.carolineligthart.blogspot.nl