pack and the fatigues he was still wearing. Hed looked for his grandmother among all the crying, clutching families, knowing somehow that she wouldnt be there, surprised by his lack of surprise. At the beginning of the game, the 99 grid will have some of the squares filled. He hesitated to take note of her backside in the filmy sundress she was wearing, which threatened to fly up with every gust of wind. She looked wan, with a new pallor, her jaw quavering.
Were they Hollywood-slick, with real plants and glass tabletops, or was she sitting under buzzing fluorescent lights, the walls stuffed with asbestos, brushing the balls of her feet rhythmically against stained berber carpet? He pulled out of the spot and followed, painfully aware now that the time hed invested into following her was giving him an idea of her habits, but no insight into her soul. Her hands were trembling as she opened and closed her mouth, seemingly making a deliberate effort to breathe. As he climbed the front steps, he was struck by a coughing fit.
He kicked dirt over the puddle, wiped hot saliva from his mouth and caught his breath. She leaned into the window to greet the unseen driver before crossing over to the passenger side and climbing. Shed be coming out the east side of the building. He leaned his temple against the window as the sun melted into the fields. Marty pulled the pipe back out and flicked his lighter, satisfied that no teacher was coming, but Shep just stared. Shep knew because hed been here before, because shed been here before. Even taking her obliviousness as a given, this had to be a violation. Anne-Marie Kinney is the author of two novels, Radio Iris ( 2012, Two Dollar Radio ) and Coldwater Canyon (forthcoming from Civil Coping Mechanisms in October, 2018).
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