The Distant Hours

It started with a letter. A letter that had been lost a long time, waiting out half a century in a forgotten postal bag in the dim attic of a nondescript house in Bermondsey. I think about it sometimes, that mailbag: of the hundreds of love letters, grocery bills, birthday cards, notes from children to parents, that lay together, swelling and sighing as their thwarted messages whispered in the dark. Waiting, waiting, for someone to realize they were there. For it is said, you know, that a letter will always seek a reader, that sooner or later, like it or not, words have a way of finding the light, of making their secrets known.

The Distant Hours

Kate Morton

Pg. 7

 

Read this one between the two Elizabeth Kostova novels--The Swan Thieves and The Historian. Love Kate Morton. A wonderfully detailed writer. There are at least three, if not more, interwoven stories here. Dated chapter headings keep the chronology clear.

 

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