By Peter S. Beagle
A kindly raven brings meals to and is the better half of a guy who has taken shelter in an deserted mausoleum in a brand new York urban cemetery for nineteen years.
Title: A nice & inner most Place
Author: Beagle, Peter S.
Publisher: Tachyon Publications
Publication Date: 2007/05/28
Number of Pages: 264
Binding style: PAPERBACK
Library of Congress: bl2007019271
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Additional resources for A Fine and Private Place
Rebeck said. "Why? " Mr. Rebeck got up and went inside the mausoleum. He came out a moment later, holding half a baloney and a small container of milk. "Supper," he explained, "or a very late lunch. " He leaned against a cracked pillar and smiled at Michael, who had not moved. "Death is like life in a lot of ways," he said thoughtfully. "The power to see clearly doesn't always change people. The wise in life sometimes become wiser in death. The petty in life remain petty. The dead change their addresses, you see, not their souls.
He sprang into the air and flapped slowly away over Central Avenue. "Good-by," Mr. Rebeck called after him. "See you," the raven croaked and disappeared behind a huge elm. Mr. Rebeck stretched himself, sat down again on the steps, and watched the sun climb. He felt a bit disconcerted. Usually, the raven brought him food twice a day, they exchanged some backchat, and that was that. Sometimes they didn't even talk. I don't know that bird at all, he thought, and it's been all these years. I know ghosts better than I know that small bird.
The gray rats that come out just before dawn were all back in their cellars because the cats were out, stepping along the curbs. The morning pigeons had scattered to the rooftops and window ledges when the cats came, which the raven thought was a pity. He could have done with a few less pigeons. The usual early fog was over Yorkchester, and the raven dropped under it. Yorkchester had been built largely by an insurance company, and it looked like one pink brick building reflected in a hundred mirrors.