Thursday, June 14, 2007

Spadina Station, waiting for an emptier car.

Asian female, 14-16, tall and thin, wearing a pink t-shirt, jean skirt with black leggings, black mesh shoes and a silver anklet. A long, red ribbon is tied through her hair.

The Amulet of Samarkand: The Bartimaeus Trilogy Book 1, Jonathan Stroud (Miramax Books/Hyperbion)

Page 77:

A thousand fishhooks seemed to embed themselves into me. I was pulled in several directions at once. Resisting too long risked tearing my essence, but I had no interest in delay. I wished to hand over the Amulet and be done.

The platform is three rows back. A car has stalled somewhere down the line. We're all rethinking our wardrobe. The girl itches the back of her knee, tugging at the leggings, the material snapping back too close to her skin. I pull at the back of my collar, adjust the strap of my bag, envy the man next to me, his linen shirt loose against his chest. The girl runs the back of her hand against her forehead. Mirroring the need, I inadvertently transfer ink and a rushed scribble onto my sweaty cheek.


Wisewebwoman said...

How did you know you transferred, was there a mirror in the purse or could you see yourself in the darkened window? Or maybe later at home you went OMG!
Inquiring minds, etc...... ;>0
Yes I made the drive, Julie. Wrote about it in the blog, a journey to the centre of myself in one way.
I'm sitting overlooking the bay in NL as I write, looong days here, sunset is purpling the water and pinking the hills and lights start slowly dancing along the water gifted from the houses across the way.
Oh my.

Kate said...

Julie ... I'm still waiting for that big, exciting announcement you teased us with after your interview on the CBC afternoon show ...