"Tomorrow"
There was an old sideboard in our Majorcan villa. Half of it was filled with old paperbacks - no doubt left by previous renters. Ninety nine per cent of the titles and authors did not appeal to me with the genres being crime, horror or romance. Not my cup of tea at all. However, amongst all that dross I spotted a rather thin novel by the living and much respected English writer - Graham Swift. Immediately, I was intrigued by the title - "Tomorrow". It reminded me of this speech by Shakespeare's Macbeth :- Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow Creeps in this petty pace from day to day, To the last syllable of recorded time; And all our yesterdays have lighted fools The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle! Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player, That struts and frets his hour upon the stage, And then is heard no more. It is a tale Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, Signifying nothing. Knowing nothing about the novel, I nonetheless decided to purloin it. ...