Her brother was back from art college for the weekend with Ravi, showing his friend the sights of glorious Bedford.
Joe had arranged an impromptu party by the river, with music and beer and a ton of weed and girls who were frustrated Joe wasn’t interested in them.
Nora had been invited and drank too much and somehow got talking to Ravi about swimming.
“So, could you swim the river?” he asked her. “Sure.” “No you couldn’t,” someone else had said.
And so, in a moment of idiocy, she had decided to prove them wrong.
And by the time her stoned and heavily inebriated older brother realised what she was doing, it was too late.
The swim was well under way. As she remembered this, the corridor at the end of the aisle in the library turned from stone to flowing water.
And even as the shelves around her stayed where they were, the tiles beneath her feet now sprouted grass and the ceiling above her became sky.
But unlike when she disappeared into another version of the present, Mrs Elm and the books remained.
She was half in the library and half inside the memory. She was staring at someone in the corridor-river.
It was her younger self in the water, as the last of the summer light dissolved towards dark.
Equidistance
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다음페이지
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