A young gravedigger and an older doctor have an on-off love affair.
(from The New Yorker, Dec. 25, 2006)
Once we got back together, I had to avoid Ted, as well as C.’s receptionist and all of her patients — the whole town in fact. But C. was the shout and I was the echo. I loved her even more than before.
This is a story about a lot of things, and I wonder if one of them has to do with a sense of justice. Indulge me, here — but only if you’ve read it. (Sorry, couldn’t find a link.) Our narrator, otherwise an upstanding guy, lies to his father about his affair and finds himself digging graves for years as a result. He later pursues a law degree. There’s a sweet bit of vengeance (the evil twin to justice) when Ted, whose reverse Midas touch has him creating ugliness all over town, tears down the wall full of bees. And when C. turns up at the end, during the strikingly nostalgic finale, she’s become an old lady. Perhaps she got what she deserved for favoring vanity over love. A kind of love. I dunno. Very cool, thought-provoking story.
Belle and Sebastian, “Dress Up In You”