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Zusatztext 45752526 Informationen zum Autor KENT HARUF is the author of five previous novels (and, with the photographer Peter Brown, West of Last Chance ). His honors include a Whiting Foundation Writers’ Award, the Mountains & Plains Booksellers Award, the Wallace Stegner Award, and a special citation from the PEN/Hemingway Foundation; he was also a finalist for the National Book Award, the Los Angeles Times Book Prize, and the New Yorker Book Award. He died in November 2014, at the age of seventy-one. Klappentext A spare yet eloquent, bittersweet yet inspiring story of a man and a woman who, in advanced age, come together to wrestle with the events of their lives and their hopes for the imminent future. In the familiar setting of Holt, Colorado, home to all of Kent Haruf's inimitable fiction, Addie Moore pays an unexpected visit to a neighbor, Louis Waters. Her husband died years ago, as did his wife, and in such a small town they naturally have known of each other for decades; in fact, Addie was quite fond of Louis's wife. His daughter lives hours away in Colorado Springs, her son even farther away in Grand Junction, and Addie and Louis have long been living alone in houses now empty of family, the nights so terribly lonely, especially with no one to talk with. Their brave adventures-their pleasures and their difficulties-are hugely involving and truly resonant, making Our Souls at Night the perfect final installment to this beloved writer's enduring contribution to American literature.1 And then there was the day when Addie Moore made a call on Louis Waters. It was an evening in May just before full dark. They lived a block apart on Cedar Street in the oldest part of town with elm trees and hackberry and a single maple grown up along the curb and green lawns running back from the sidewalk to the two-story houses. It had been warm in the day but it had turned off cool now in the evening. She went along the sidewalk under the trees and turned in at Louis’s house. When Louis came to the door she said, Could I come in and talk to you about something? They sat down in the living room. Can I get you something to drink? Some tea? No thank you. I might not be here long enough to drink it. She looked around. Your house looks nice. Diane always kept a nice house. I’ve tried a little bit. It still looks nice, she said. I haven’t been in here for years. She looked out the windows at the side yard where the night was settling in and out into the kitchen where there was a light shining over the sink and counters. It all looked clean and orderly. He was watching her. She was a good-looking woman, he had always thought so. She’d had dark hair when she was younger, but it was white now and cut short. She was still shapely, only a little heavy at the waist and hips. You probably wonder what I’m doing here, she said. Well, I didn’t think you came over to tell me my house looks nice. No. I want to suggest something to you. Oh? Yes. A kind of proposal. Okay. Not marriage, she said. I didn’t think that either. But it’s a kind of marriage-like question. But I don’t know if I can now. I’m getting cold feet. She laughed a little. That’s sort of like marriage, isn’t it. What is? Cold feet. It can be. Yes. Well, I’m just going to say it. I’m listening, Louis said. I wonder if you would consider coming to my house sometimes to sleep with me. What? How do you mean? I mean we’re both alone. We’ve been by ourselves for too long. For years. I’m lonely. I think you might be too. I wonder if you would come and sleep in the night with me. And talk. He stared at her, watching her, curious now, cautious. You don’t say anything. Have I taken your breath away? she said. I guess yo...
