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Actually, there’s something I have to tell you. Last spring, I went with the other grade nine classes to see a Shakespeare play. Even if I didn’t really get the whole story and all its battles, violence, cries and tragic destinies, from the very start I liked the sad prince and his fiancée, driven crazy by love, who drowned herself in the river. Her name was Ophelia, an incredibly gentle name, don’t you think? She looked as though she were asleep on the riverbed, so beautiful in her wet gown clinging to her body and her hair like golden seaweed. Ever since, I’ve taken her name in secret. You’re the first to know.

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The Mosaic

Gabriel Finch’s longish hair was fair like his mother’s. He was scruffy and less bulky than I’d imagined. Younger looking, too, with dark circles under his eyes. Even so, he had an intense gaze that went straight through me when he gave me a half-second glance.


He put a hand on my elbow and led me to the middle of the space.

“Wait here,” he told me. The silence and pitch black was dizzying. I stumbled, trying to keep balanced.

There was a loud click then, like the sound of Hawthorn’s football stadium lights going on. My eyes were drawn to the spot of brightness, where Gabriel stood by a big rectangular light on a tripod. He’d set these up in a circle around the circumference of the space and he began switching them on one by one.

My gasp echoed back at me as I followed the light washing over the dome.

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All Good Children

All Good Children

also available: Hardcover eBook
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Young Man With Camera

Wanna take another picture? I shook my head and kept walking. Want me to take yours? I stopped. Lemme take your picture. I've taken thousands of pictures of other people. This was the first time someone had asked to take a picture of me. Why? I asked. Lucy started to laugh. This wasn't bow-and-arrow laughter where I'm the target. This wasn't nail-and-hammer laughter where I'm the plank. This wasn't the sour laughter I'd heard before. This laughter was thick gravy you pour over platefuls of grief to disguise the taste. She looked at me with her gray-teeth grin and said, Why not?

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