A city recognizable by its small sounds: Mari's kettle, the brakes of the 9, streetlight 23 vibrating in the cold. In this book, lives flow at a low volume: a caregiver no one sees, a separated father in corridors of toner, a rider stuck on his bonus, a mother in front of a changed cylinder, a boy on a dinghy who doesn't like the sea, a bench that holds scraps together, an emergency room that binds even silences, an attic full of gold that doesn't heat. Stories that ask for no mercy: they show objects, smells, brief gestures. The rest is up to the reader.
What you'll find inside
Stories set in the same city, linked by thin threads (the golden blanket, Line 9, streetlight 23, Via Odoacre, Lane 9).
Sterling and musical prose: essential dialogue, no clichés, no pornography of pain.
Empathy without rhetoric: dignity comes from short screws, clothespins, cups left "for later."
Implicit social critique: precariousness, bureaucracy, loneliness, power that mirrors itself but doesn't warm up.
Voices that remain: Ramona at the counter, Ettore on the bench, Elena in the ward, Ahmed in the saddle, Davide among the lawyers... and others you might have encountered this morning.
Because it's worth it
Because it shows, doesn't explain.
Because it restores the right measure of things: stopping before the crash, saying enough when necessary, saving a place for those who arrive later.
Because it's a book that is read with the nose (warm bread, ammonia, detergent, rain in -1) and remembered with the hands (a coin tightening a screw, a blanket on the knees).
To those who speak
To those who know cities from the bus stop, to those who work shifts, to those who have learned that courage makes no noise, to those who seek true stories without sermons. If you like stories that linger like smells and details, there's a place for you here.
Open the book, sit on bench 9, place two fingers on 23. No explanations needed: gestures are enough. Then close it gently: what holds, stays.
Les informations fournies dans la section « Synopsis » peuvent faire référence à une autre édition de ce titre.
Vendeur : GreatBookPrices, Columbia, MD, Etats-Unis
Etat : As New. Unread book in perfect condition. N° de réf. du vendeur 51308115
Quantité disponible : Plus de 20 disponibles
Vendeur : GreatBookPrices, Columbia, MD, Etats-Unis
Etat : New. N° de réf. du vendeur 51308115-n
Quantité disponible : Plus de 20 disponibles
Vendeur : Grand Eagle Retail, Bensenville, IL, Etats-Unis
Paperback. Etat : new. Paperback. A city recognizable by its small sounds: Mari's kettle, the brakes of the 9, streetlight 23 vibrating in the cold. In this book, lives flow at a low volume: a caregiver no one sees, a separated father in corridors of toner, a rider stuck on his bonus, a mother in front of a changed cylinder, a boy on a dinghy who doesn't like the sea, a bench that holds scraps together, an emergency room that binds even silences, an attic full of gold that doesn't heat. Stories that ask for no mercy: they show objects, smells, brief gestures. The rest is up to the reader. What you'll find insideStories set in the same city, linked by thin threads (the golden blanket, Line 9, streetlight 23, Via Odoacre, Lane 9).Sterling and musical prose: essential dialogue, no cliches, no pornography of pain.Empathy without rhetoric: dignity comes from short screws, clothespins, cups left "for later."Implicit social critique: precariousness, bureaucracy, loneliness, power that mirrors itself but doesn't warm up.Voices that remain: Ramona at the counter, Ettore on the bench, Elena in the ward, Ahmed in the saddle, Davide among the lawyers. and others you might have encountered this morning. Because it's worth itBecause it shows, doesn't explain.Because it restores the right measure of things: stopping before the crash, saying enough when necessary, saving a place for those who arrive later.Because it's a book that is read with the nose (warm bread, ammonia, detergent, rain in -1) and remembered with the hands (a coin tightening a screw, a blanket on the knees). To those who speakTo those who know cities from the bus stop, to those who work shifts, to those who have learned that courage makes no noise, to those who seek true stories without sermons. If you like stories that linger like smells and details, there's a place for you here. Open the book, sit on bench 9, place two fingers on 23. No explanations needed: gestures are enough. Then close it gently: what holds, stays. This item is printed on demand. Shipping may be from multiple locations in the US or from the UK, depending on stock availability. N° de réf. du vendeur 9798298701402
Quantité disponible : 1 disponible(s)
Vendeur : PBShop.store US, Wood Dale, IL, Etats-Unis
PAP. Etat : New. New Book. Shipped from UK. Established seller since 2000. N° de réf. du vendeur L2-9798298701402
Quantité disponible : Plus de 20 disponibles
Vendeur : California Books, Miami, FL, Etats-Unis
Etat : New. Print on Demand. N° de réf. du vendeur I-9798298701402
Quantité disponible : Plus de 20 disponibles
Vendeur : PBShop.store UK, Fairford, GLOS, Royaume-Uni
PAP. Etat : New. New Book. Shipped from UK. Established seller since 2000. N° de réf. du vendeur L2-9798298701402
Quantité disponible : Plus de 20 disponibles
Vendeur : GreatBookPricesUK, Woodford Green, Royaume-Uni
Etat : New. N° de réf. du vendeur 51308115-n
Quantité disponible : Plus de 20 disponibles
Vendeur : GreatBookPricesUK, Woodford Green, Royaume-Uni
Etat : As New. Unread book in perfect condition. N° de réf. du vendeur 51308115
Quantité disponible : Plus de 20 disponibles
Vendeur : CitiRetail, Stevenage, Royaume-Uni
Paperback. Etat : new. Paperback. A city recognizable by its small sounds: Mari's kettle, the brakes of the 9, streetlight 23 vibrating in the cold. In this book, lives flow at a low volume: a caregiver no one sees, a separated father in corridors of toner, a rider stuck on his bonus, a mother in front of a changed cylinder, a boy on a dinghy who doesn't like the sea, a bench that holds scraps together, an emergency room that binds even silences, an attic full of gold that doesn't heat. Stories that ask for no mercy: they show objects, smells, brief gestures. The rest is up to the reader. What you'll find insideStories set in the same city, linked by thin threads (the golden blanket, Line 9, streetlight 23, Via Odoacre, Lane 9).Sterling and musical prose: essential dialogue, no cliches, no pornography of pain.Empathy without rhetoric: dignity comes from short screws, clothespins, cups left "for later."Implicit social critique: precariousness, bureaucracy, loneliness, power that mirrors itself but doesn't warm up.Voices that remain: Ramona at the counter, Ettore on the bench, Elena in the ward, Ahmed in the saddle, Davide among the lawyers. and others you might have encountered this morning. Because it's worth itBecause it shows, doesn't explain.Because it restores the right measure of things: stopping before the crash, saying enough when necessary, saving a place for those who arrive later.Because it's a book that is read with the nose (warm bread, ammonia, detergent, rain in -1) and remembered with the hands (a coin tightening a screw, a blanket on the knees). To those who speakTo those who know cities from the bus stop, to those who work shifts, to those who have learned that courage makes no noise, to those who seek true stories without sermons. If you like stories that linger like smells and details, there's a place for you here. Open the book, sit on bench 9, place two fingers on 23. No explanations needed: gestures are enough. Then close it gently: what holds, stays. This item is printed on demand. Shipping may be from our UK warehouse or from our Australian or US warehouses, depending on stock availability. N° de réf. du vendeur 9798298701402
Quantité disponible : 1 disponible(s)