As soon as I knew that I would be all right, I was sure that I was dead and didn't know it. I moved through the days like a severed head that finishes a sentence. I waited for the moment that would snap me out of my seeming life.Originally published in The Quarterly, and then in Amy Hempel's short story collection, At the Gates of the Animal Kingdom.
The accident happened at sunset, so that is when I felt this way the most. The man I had met the week before was driving me to dinner when it happened. The place was at the beach, a beach on a bay that you can look across and see the city lights, a place where you can see everything without having to listen to any of it.
A long time later I went to that beach myself. I drove the car. It was the first good beach day; I wore shorts.
At the edge of the sand I unwound the elastic bandage and waded into the surf. A boy in a wet suit looked at my leg. He asked me if a shark had done it; there were sightings of great whites along that part of the coast.
I said that, yes, a shark had done it.
"And you're going back in?" the boy asked.
I said, "And I'm going back in."
Bookmarkers: English, Escritores / Writers, Taste it
1 Comment:
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- Anonymous said...
19 February, 2009 02:44[part five]
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