Читать книгу Northwood - Maryse Meijer - Страница 24

SHOPPING LIST

In the market fingering a box of tea I heard you laugh

two aisles over. My hand froze on the plastic; there was a

woman’s voice, laughing with you. I pressed against the

metal shelf, coat buttons tapping the cereal boxes below.

Who knew me here, I wondered, was I still a stranger, a

woman shivering against the Liptons? On the edge of the

wood it was especially dangerous: the one road with its strip

of shops, the bar, the dance hall, the gas station, the Feed

and Seed. Humans. I closed my eyes and heard your heavy

stride. The breeze your body makes so close to mine. You

didn’t slow. I had eight dollars in change and a hole in my

jeans and a fraction of a lover and I felt it, my poverty, how

little I knew, the limits