The Zahir - download pdf or read online
By Paulo Coelho
ISBN-10: 0061758019
ISBN-13: 9780061758010
The narrator of The Zahir is a bestselling novelist who lives in Paris and enjoys all of the privileges cash and megastar convey. His spouse of ten years, Esther, is a warfare correspondent who has disappeared besides a chum, Mikhail, who may perhaps or will not be her lover.
used to be Esther abducted, murdered, or did she easily break out a wedding that left her unfulfilled? The narrator doesn't have any solutions, yet he has lots of questions of his personal. Then sooner or later Mikhail reveals the narrator and grants to reunite him along with his spouse. In his try and recapture a misplaced love, the narrator discovers anything unforeseen approximately himself.
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Additional resources for The Zahir
Example text
I was too accustomed to having my life made easy. I was stuck in my tracks by the smitten sweet smile and the pale eyes. With straight brown hair she never fussed with but to wash it. And she wore long cotton dresses and no shoes in the business district. Karen. A whole year ago. And now she had gone and done this thing. She held it out to me all rolled up in a blanket. Where’d you get that? Lester, this is our baby. He is named Jesu because he is a Spanish-looking child. He will be a dark saturnine young man with slim hips like yours.
It was true Mama might lay it on a bit thick. She might coquette with this one, yes, just as she might affect a widow’s piety with that one. It all depended on her instinct of the particular man’s character. It was easy enough to make believers of them. If I had to judge them as a whole I would say they were simple men, not exactly stupid, but lacking command of our language and with no wiles of their own. By whatever combination of sentiments and signatures, she never had anything personal intended but the business at hand, the step-by-step encouragement of the cash into our bank account.
And with the crowds came the hawkers to sell sandwiches and hot coffee, and peddlers with balloons and little flags and whirligigs for the children. Someone had taken photographs of the laid out skeletons in their crusts of burlap and printed them up as postcards for mailing, and these were going like hotcakes. The police had been inspired by the charred remains they found in the basement to look down the well and then to dig up the chicken yard and the floor of the stable. They had brought around a rowboat to dredge the water hole.
The Zahir by Paulo Coelho
by David
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