from "Street of Riches" (Rue Deschambault) by Gabrielle Roy (1957)
Toward the middle of the Provencher Bridge, Maman and I found ourselves surrounded by sea gulls; they flew low over the Red River. Maman took my hand and clasped it tight, as though to convey to me a movement of her soul. A hundred times a day Maman got a little lift from the world around us; sometimes it was nothing more than the wind or a flight of birds that delighted her.
Leaning on the parapet, we watched the gulls for a long while. And all of a sudden, on that bridge, Maman told me that she would like to be able to travel, to see the world, to go whenever and wherever she might choose. Maman told me she still longed to be free.
We continued on our way toward Winnipeg's large stores, where, at the beginning of each month, we went to spend Papa's money. But the gulls accompanied our thoughts, as far as Eaton's, to the yard goods department.
Wednesday, August 09, 2006
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
4 comments:
I think historical fiction is really important and at times more relevant than the story from a history book or documentary
These are super cool.
"history assumes the possibility of truth, while fiction assumes the truth of possibility."
--alden turner
Great quote and I agree
Post a Comment