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I was looking for a quiet place to die from lung cancer. Someone recommended
Brooklyn, and so the next morning, I traveled down there from Westchester to
scope out the terrain. A local real-estate agent ushered me around to six or
seven brownstone flats and by the end of the afternoon I had rented a
two-bedroom garden apartment on First Street, just half a block away from
Prospect Park. I had no idea who the neighbors were and I didn't care. They
all worked at nine-to-five jobs, none of them had any children and therefore
the building would be relatively silent. More than anything else, that was
what I craved for. A silent end to my sad and ridiculous life. At first I
didn't know what to do with myself. I had spent thirty one years commuting
back and forth between the suburbs and the Manhattan offices at Mid-Atlantic
Accident and Life, but now that I didn't have a job as insurance agent
anymore, there were too many hours in the day. About a week after I moved
into the apartment, my married daughter Rachel drove in from New Jersey to
pay me a visit. She said that I needed to get involved in something, to
invent a project for myself. Rachel is not a stupid person. She has a
doctorate in biochemistry from the University of Chicago and works as a
researcher for a large drug company outside Princeton.
I had told Rachel my days were numbered. My lung cancer was in remission
and based on what the oncologist had told me after my most recent exam,
there was cause for guarded optimism. However, I still didn't trust him. The
shock of cancer had been so great and I still didn't believe in the
possibility of surviving it. I was almost sixty years old and I didn't know
how much time I had left. Whatever the medical prognosis of my condition,
the crucial thing was to take nothing for granted. As long as I was alive, I
had to figure out a way to start living again.
I hit upon an idea that Rachel approved. Humble as the project was, I
decided to give it a grandiose title -- The Book of Human Folly. In it I
planned to set down in the simplest, clearest language possible an account
of every blunder, every pratfall, every embarrassment, every idiocy, every
foible and every silly act I had committed during my long and chequered
career as a man. I would also write down things that had happened to other
people I knew and when the source ran dry as well, I would take on
historical events, recording the follies of my fellow human beings down
through the ages, beginning with the vanished civilizations of the ancient
world and pushing on to the first months of the twenty first century. If
nothing else, I thought it might be good for a few laughs. I had no desire
to bare my soul or indulge in gloomy introspections. The tone would be light
and funny and my only purpose was to keep myself entertained while using up
as many hours of the day as I could.
I wrote many interesting stories and howlers, about a dozen in the first
two months. But even though I did my best to keep the tone frivolous and
light, I discovered that it wasn't always possible. everyone is subject to
black moods and I confess that there were times when I succumbed to bouts of
loneliness and dejection. I had spent the bulk of my working life in the
business of death and I had probably heard too many grim stories to stop
myself from thinking about them when my spirits were low. All the people I
had visited over the years, all the policies I had sold, all the dread and
desperation I had been made privy to while talking to my clients. |
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Based on the passage given, write
a summary about
* how the narrator dealt with
cancer
* the project he undertook
Credit will be given for use of
own words but care must be taken not to change the original meaning. Your
summary must be in continuous form and not longer than 130 words,
including the 10 words given below.
Begin your summary as follows :
"The narrator was looking
for a quiet place to die ..." |
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The narrator was looking for a quiet place to die. He rented
an apartment that matched his requirements in Brooklyn. Initially, the
narrator was at lost as to his future plans. He had free time since leaving
his job as an insurance agent. His daughter, Rachel, advised him to invent a
project to make himself busy. He did not want to take things for granted and
decided to write a book titled The Book of Human Folly. It will account all
his silly acts during his lifetime and the follies of others and historical
figures. The tone would be funny and light for entertainment purposes.
However, he did face depression, loneliness and dejection as a result of his
career dealing with many grim and sad stores. ( 126 words ) |
