![]() ![]() “Aunty’s found her and together they’ve taken a lovely house. “Do you truly think it has to do with Mum?” Sis continued. Then, in a breaking voice, she said, “But what reason could there be for Aunty staying away so long?” “Edmund?” she said in a low, empty voice. But it had been hours since she’d read a word. Open before her lay a tattered book of fairy tales. Her feet, in high-buttoned shoes, were hooked over the lower rung of the chair. She was sitting by the table, a blanket draped across her shoulders. ![]() Sis - that was Edmund’s name for her - was a little taller than her brother, her hair a shade lighter, but otherwise they shared a close resemblance. But all the while he was watching his sister. His knees were drawn up and he was hugging them, head down. He was a frail boy, as thin as the clothes he wore, with light hair and a face both sad and pale. ![]() Opposite the trunk was a narrow bed upon which sat a boy. The room contained a table, a chair, and against one wall, a trunk. It was a small, single-windowed room, not much warmer than the outside, for there was only a solitary candle to heat it. AT THE FAR back of the top floor of an Ann Street tenement was a room. ![]()
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |