Thursday, September 13, 2007

Spadina streetcar, unchaperoned and content.

Caucasian boy, 11ish. His cable knit sweater used to be sky blue and tight woven, the neck's form fitting around a thicker boy, his older brother. The sweater is now the colour of fading sky, musty, stretched about the shoulders and waist. The neckline droops to show a graying t-shirt underneath. He has the hair of a child celebrity, soft curls framing an innocent face, features falling into gentle expression, a subtle joy, lost in pages that can only turn as fast as his nimble fingers will allow.

One Beastly Beast, Garth Nix, illustrated by Brian Biggs (HarperCollins)

Page 35:

Peter sucked in his stomach and the point of the loaf whistled through the air. Blackbread spat upon the deck and pulled back the loaf for another stab, as Peter staggered back, unbalanced by the huge cheese he still held high.
His lunch bag holds the remnants of last night's dinner, a mash of canned peas, boiled potatoes and a breaded chicken thigh. This morning, he woke up on the edge of pleasure, the taste of foil hitting the back of his tongue, double chocolate licked from the backing of his pudding cup.


KK said...

Ohmigod Julie that was me!

Julie Wilson said...

Whose a big boy?! Youse da big boy!

KK said...

I was wearing a tank top beneath my sweater! Ise da biggist boy in da whole wurld.