I recently “graduated” from the Writers’ Federation of Nova Scotia‘s Mentorship Program. Today, I had the opportunity to read an excerpt from my manuscript to WFNS members. I’m hoping to complete my draft by the end of the summer. Endless thanks to my mentor, Stephens Gerard Malone, and Sue Goyette, the force of nature behind the program.
[Late summer 1964] Through another rock cut and that leg was over. Ed felt the throttle pulling back slowly, brakes cutting in against momentum, the weight of his body creeping ahead in his seat.
This station was like a castle. The train nestled up next to it, next to a high stone wall on one side, in close to smooth platforms on the other. A hundred people easy, milling around in summer city clothes. Ed’s car was near empty until they crowded around and through the doors, blocked off the fresh rush of air with their bodies and suitcases.
God forgive him, Ed’s arms were still smeared with engine grease. He’d forgotten about cleaning up decent after the truck broke down. The pocket on his plaid shirt was torn half off. His pants could’ve been borrowed off a coal miner. The whole getup looked that much worse beside bright shirts, flowery dresses, straw hats and little woven purses. Didn’t surprise him a bit that the seat beside him stayed empty, empty, still empty, plenty of space for the dirty hick kid as everybody shuffled by. Continue reading Twin phantoms [self-promotion].