Thursday, November 01, 2007

Yonge Line, en route to welcome someone home.

Caucasian male, early 30s, wearing glasses, blue jeans and a blue polo shirt, a cotton ball bandaged loosely to his inner elbow.

1491: New Revelations of the Americas Before Columbus, Charles C. Mann (Vintage)

Page 148:

To Fenn, the small pox historian, the squabble over the number of deaths and the degree of blame obscures something more important. In the long run, Fenn says, the consequential finding of the new scholarship is not that many people died but that many people lived.
He was 28 and tired. Sitting on the steps outside the hospital, he peeled back the lining of a cafeteria muffin and took a long bite. He turned the muffin a quarter turn and picked at a piece of the lining baked under the lip. It was done and he didn't have to feel anxious anymore, didn't have to wonder each time he left the room, would this be it? His father was off stewing in some corner of the hospital and that was fine. The sun was shining and there was an unseasonally mild breeze. He felt life pouring back into him, enough to carry him through the next stage. Then he remembered she was gone and he tucked the muffin into his jacket pocket without thinking.


Wisewebwoman said...

Here for my feed, Julie. I love your snippets this week and reading your backcomment I found myself nodding, of course. I do something similar with poetry/photo work I do and it has been very well received.
Thanks for all the prowling and observing....
Once I figure out my blogroll you'll be put on there.

Julie Wilson said...

Hello again, Lady!

You're into photography, too? I just got a new camera, my first in years. It's been a lot of fun framing things up again. Although, last week I was at a dance performance and became so consumed by trying to capture the essence that when I put the camera down I was enthralled by how "life like" everything was! Haha.