Miles to go The second journal of The walk

Richard Paul Evans

Large print - 2011

A successful executive finds he has lost his wife, his home, and his business quite suddenly. He starts walking cross-country to Key West, but he is stabbed and confined to a hospital for a long, difficult recovery. A mysterious woman invites him into her home, and he soon finds that to complete his journey, he must help her with her own.

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LARGE PRINT/FICTION/Evans, Richard Paul
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Subjects
Published
Thorndike, Me. : Center Point Large Print 2011.
Language
English
Main Author
Richard Paul Evans (-)
Edition
Center Point Large Print ed
Physical Description
335 p. (large print) : map ; 23 cm
ISBN
9781611730678
Contents unavailable.

PROLOGUE Note The sun will rise again. The only uncertainty is whether or not we will rise to greet it. Alan Christoffersen's diary Several months after I was mugged, stabbed, and left unconscious along the shoulder of Washington's Highway 2, a friend asked me what being stabbed felt like. I told her it hurt. Really, how do you describe pain? Sometimes doctors ask us to rate our pain on a scale from one to ten, as if that number had some reliable meaning. In my opinion there needs to be a more objective rating system, something comparative; like, would you trade what you're feeling for a root canal or maybe half a childbirth? And with what would we compare emotional pain--physical pain? Arguably, emotional pain is the greater of the two evils. Sometimes people will inflict physical pain on themselves to dull their emotional anguish. I understand. If I had the choice between being stabbed or losing my wife, McKale, again, the knife has the advantage--because if the knife kills me, I stop hurting. If it doesn't kill me, the wound will heal. Either way the pain stops. But no matter what I do, my McKale is never coming back. And I can't imagine that the pain in my heart will ever go away. Still, there is hope--not to forget McKale, nor even to understand why I had to lose her--but to accept that I did and somehow go on. As a friend recently said to me, no matter what I do, McKale will always be a part of me. The question is, what part--a spring of gratitude, or a fountain of bitterness? Someday I'll have to decide. Someday the sun will rise again. The only uncertainty is whether or not I will rise to greet it. In the meantime, what I hope for most is hope . Walking helps. I wish I were walking again right now. I think I'd rather be anywhere right now than where I am. (c) 2011 Richard Paul Evans Excerpted from Miles to Go by Richard Paul Evans All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.