This is the first of five entries inspired by this year’s Giller Prize nominees.
Bloor Line at Bay
Caucasian male, late 20s, with short black hair, wearing black jeans, white dress shirt, and grey tweed coat, collar up.
Through Black Spruce, Joseph Boyden (Viking Canada)
Page 295:
My eyes rolled back and into the light. I see the ceiling above me. White ceiling. Far away. Danny’s somewhere close. I can feel his boots pacing on the hardwood floor. I can hear him mumbling to himself. The floor’s hard. I cough and spit blood, draw in a great breath, sucking more blood and spit into my lungs. I roll over, coughing in heaves. Jesus, please. He is on top of me again. The wait of him crushes me.
The single mattress gives in the middle. He plucks at a loose button through the cover sheet and stares at the foot of the bed. His breath quickens. His grandmother’s shelves are stacked with travel books, birding guides, classroom poetry, and an old copy of The Little Prince. The window is open a crack. There are no shadows against the drapes but he can hear the branches moving in the breeze, the footsteps in the leaves, then quiet. His heart in his chest, then his throat, now his ears. He remembers his grandma’s words and readies himself. Tonight, when his eyes shut, she will appear silent by his side. But he’ll be a big boy and tell that lady she’s not welcome anymore.
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