Sometimes at dusk the family would sit outside the shop and stare at the wheatbin. The last caws of crows stretched with the fading light. Dusk is a crushing time for a dying town. If dawn surprises and mocks with hopelessness, the suggestion that light might lift it all, then dusk is worn out and can’t be bothered taunting. Crow’s breath, the maintenance workers called it, enough to singe the bin’s whitewash. And when that goes, this town will sink under the murk.
Hey, look – it’s a new review!
Just last week, I shared my thoughts on John Kinsella’s “chilling, funny and captivating” short story collection, Crow’s Breath over at Newtown Review of Books. I’d love it if you’d go and have a read.
My thanks, as always, go to Linda and Jean from NRB for hosting me.
Every second Monday at Book to the Future, I share a selection of literary links, as well as a few thoughts on what I’ve been reading lately…and anything else that comes to mind.
This particular Monday is the last day of the last long weekend of the year (for those of us here in Sydney, at least). I’ve been hard at work writing reviews – and because I’m eager to continue writing, I’m going to keep this edition of Book to the Future Bookmarks relatively short.
Today’s links all centre around little stories and big apples. I hope you find them as interesting as I do.
Continue reading “book to the future bookmarks #12”
White Light – sixteen very different (and very short!) stories, each written and published years apart, that feel as if they were destined to be together.
My review of Mark O’Flynn’s White Light is online over at Newtown Review of Books.