Adelaide Literary Award Anthology 2017

was doing on a bus with a toilet that sent uri- Systems crew had been murdered by their irate-
nous blue slop cascading down the center aisle ly motivated customers, neither of which had
was anyone’s guess: Percy, enigmatic to the occurred, Charley made another unauthorized
core, confided in no one. Dropping the fake decision that would probably cost him his job,
dialect, he asked skeptically, “That an author- if he hadn’t lost it already. “D’you mind if I
ized decision, Mr. Sensible Shoes? Doesn’t look through your wallet again, VerDean?”
sound like the Sagacity I know and love?” “I’m not going to let you steal my money, that’s
“Straight from the helicopter.” not right.”
“I’m not going to steal your money, I promise.”
By nine he had persuaded VerDean to abandon “Well, I don’t like it. I’m watching you.”
the bathroom. Released to a larger space, the Under close supervision, Charley found what
young man, indeed in his pinstriped pajamas, he needed, a small address book that furnished
glanced around nervously and made to scurry him a South Jordon address and telephone
back to safety. All along Charley had not been number. The ensuing conversation with VerD-
certain whether VerDean was faking it, or, per- ean’s mother was also a little off-kilter. Did
haps, as a jilted suitor, playing for group sympa- dissociation run in the family? But after he put
thy. But the little pitch-perfect voice, the re- VerDean on the phone and her youngest son
quests to be pardoned for causing so much denied knowing who the frantic woman was on
trouble, the skittish eyes—it seemed clear, clear the other end, she saw his point.
to Charley at least, that their motivational ex- “He’s under the influence of drugs, isn’t he?”
pert was genuinely off his trolley. “No, no. VerDean’s a straight arrow, Mrs. Niel-
Which was a problem. “Even if I tell you you’re sen.”
VerDean, that doesn’t ring a bell?” “What have you people been doing to him?”
“No that doesn’t help. I’m sorry.” “It’s been stressful,” Charley admitted.
“Let’s try your driver’s license? Would you “I want you to know that his father and I disap-
mind if I looked through your wallet?” proved of this whole thing—right out of the
“Why do you want to do that?” box. He needs to get out of that godless envi-
“Maybe it’ll help—if you saw your picture, I ronment and come home. He’s been brain-
mean?” washed.”
“Are you going to steal my money?” “I can take him to the airport,” Charley offered.
“No, no, I’ll do it right in front of you.” “I’ll be happy to do that. But I don’t know if I
The boy gazed at the photo, compared it to can talk him into it, that’s the problem.”
what they saw in the mirror, agreed there exist- “You have no right to hold someone against
ed a certain likeness, white-blond hair, freckles, his wishes.”
but remained puzzled. Neither did he know “We’re not holding him. Just the reverse: I
what city they were in, what subjects he taught, can’t get him to leave the bathroom.”
who Charley was, even who—risking it, Char- “I’m calling the police.”
ley, to gauge his reaction, put it to him— “Wait a sec.” Charley cupped the phone.
Monique Ratzburg was. The girl’s name drew, “VerDean, even if you don’t think you’re
unequivocally, a full blank. Meanwhile, perhaps VerDean, could you pretend to be VerDean?”
because of Charley’s interrogation, VerDean’s The boy had been wandering about examining
agitation seemed to be on the rise. the far-flung remnants of his clothes, touching
At nine-fifty, after calling down to see if Brook things. “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he
had possibly returned or if the entire Sagacity

199

said. “No, I don’t think so. I don’t feel very Brook, sounding like someone divorcing his
well. You know, I have no talent for sleep? Are wife, was pissed. He and Monique had been
you finished with my wallet there?” shopping in Shaker Heights. Monique clutched
At the corner of VerDean’s eyes a pallor had a diminutive mauve shopping bag from a shoe
set in that Charley did not like: Things were store. Self-conscious of her height, the young
getting worse. “VerDean,” he beseeched, woman tended to stoop her shoulders. She
“you’d be better off with your family? What smiled at Beth Ann—incongruously—then
about this?” Inspired, he pulled out his own fled, spike heels clattering on the ballroom
wallet. He had cashed his paycheck yesterday. floor. When Charley, who had raced into the
Reserving some money for his Haydee and Lib- lobby at twelve-thirty, turned to leave, follow-
by letter, he flourished before VerDean’s eyes ing her, Brook snapped, “Where’re you going?”
four twenty dollar bills. “I’ll give you eighty Ordinarily, Brook Kongal was not a difficult
dollars to pretend you’re VerDean Nielsen— study. He was about as complicated as the clay
how’s that?” pigeons he shot out of the sky. But this remark
baffled Charley. He looked at his boss, ruddy-
On the bus returning from the airport Charley cheeked in his J. Press overcoat and scarf, fin-
settled in next to an old man, who showed him gers of his leather gloves emerging raffishly
something he was writing. “Excuse me,” he from a pocket. Brook Kongal liked to recount
said, pointing at his tablet, “does ninth have an the agonies he suffered in reaching the decision
e in it?” to cheat for the first time on his wife. Evidently
Charley lifted his eyes to catch a glimpse of the after that, thankfully, his affaires d’amour had
lake in the distance. The surface looked like come more easily. Exiting the bus, Charley had
hardened tapioca. Gusts of wind socked the waded through an ankle-deep slurry of slush.
bus windows. Pedestrians were plastered head His toes were wet and numb, he was out some-
to foot in white. He had learned this was called thing like four hundred dollars for VerDean’s
a lake-effect storm. On the western side of ticket and bribe, and now he was being publicly
Cleveland, where the airport lay, there had not dressed down.
been a speck of snow. Why would anyone “To the locker room. Isn’t that where pitchers
choose to live on the east side of Cleveland? go when they’ve been relieved?”
After boxing up this evening and minus their “You’re fired when I tell you you’re fired,”
motivational instructor, who had compliantly Brook clarified. “The second I can find a stiff
boarded an airplane clutching a fistful of twen- who can conjugate the verb, Mind-your-own-
ties to a city he claimed never to have heard of, fucking-business! Meanwhile, I got a room full
they were on to Saturday programs in Colum- of sad monkeys. Go teach your course.”
bus and on the bus all day Sunday for Monday “I’ll need to get my notes?”
in Atlanta. Their current most popular Jeopardy Brook, not deigning to answer, peeled off to-
answer was West Quoddy Head, Maine. The ward the refreshment table.
question: What is the farthest eastern point in He should have known. Going up in the eleva-
the US, indisputably, their last stop? tor Charley took in the almost certain
“I don’t think so,” Corporate Sagacity Systems’ knowledge that Corporate Sagacity Systems’
proofreading expert said to the elderly gentle- public seminar division was probably, at best, a
man. “No, I really don’t think so.” breakeven enterprise. Between the expensive
direct-mail advertising campaign and ongoing
“You’re fired! You’re fired! You’re fired!” salary and logistical expenses, they needed, as
Brook never tired of admonishing them, to put
warm butts in seats and to make those butts
blissful enough to buy the worthless stuff
on the tables and go back to the office and tell

200

everyone what a peacharooney day they had had little use for it. Don Rankin worked forty-
had. Charley’s proofreading class, unlike the seven years in the steelworks. His first job was
other Cleveland classes, was oversubscribed. cleaning up congealed palm oil and razor-sharp
His classes often were—and he was adroit at tin slivers in the satanic pits under the temper
peddling the merchandise. Who would have mills, then he was promoted to gluing labels on
thought ninth-grade grammar would be such a boxes of tinplate. At the end of his shift his
moneymaker and he such an ace snake-oil thumbs would twitch. Reorganizing a depart-
salesman? ment once, he discovered an administrator who
From his room he could see a longer expanse had continued to submit reports five years after
of the river. Another ship, this one still bur- learning that no one was reviewing them. The
dened with its many stacked blocks of red and reports comprised the bulk of the man’s job.
white containers and coming this way, was By comparing the reports with department ar-
passing beneath the black structural fretwork of chives, Charley’s father was able to pinpoint
the drawbridge. The ships were elephantine when the administrator began to fabricate his
beasts, funnels grimy and discolored, hulls numbers. Oddly, though, Don Rankin’s ire was
splattered with lake spume, yet—to him, at directed more at the steelworks’ sclerotic bu-
least—beautiful things in their own way, im- reaucracy.
mense barges of commerce. Turning from the “I’d fire the goldbricker’s managers before I’d
window, he noticed the light on the phone fire the goldbricker.”
blinking. Charley reminds himself he will need to inform
He listened to the message, then called back. Haydee of his father’s death. His taking a trav-
His aunt, one of his mother’s sisters. “He went eling job had been, he knew, a way of admitting
at eight-thirty this morning, Charley. He didn’t without admitting that he, too, had grown tired
suffer, you don’t have to worry about that.” of the marriage, of trying to rescue what could
“Thank you. Have they set a time for the funer- not be rescued. But Haydee had genuinely liked
al yet?” his father. She bounced on Charley’s childhood
“Sunday and Monday. At Butterworths’. Can bed and said, I’m so happy we came! She
you get away? Everybody knows about your turned the child on her lap and pointed at a
exciting new job traveling.” bookcase. Look Libby, your daddy read all
This maiden aunt had been an English teacher those books when he was growing up!
all her life, had taught him on Saturdays what What is ironic, though, Charley is thinking as
his regular English teachers did not know or he heads into his final Sagacity class, is that this
could not teach. He had diagrammed a spectac- is a job, given less rapacious business practices,
ularly long Proust sentence and used it as gag in he could do well at. In a better world, Simon
his Sagacity classes. He sent it to Aunt Wachterman would see that sending VerDean
Roseanne, and she corrected his diagram. She home and returning money for a service they
was right—about sentences. “It’s just wrapping were unable to provide were the right things to
up,” he said. “Today’s my last day, in fact. I’ll do and the person who made those decisions,
catch a morning bus.” authorized or not, was the instructor who
taught their most profitable public classes. He
Suddenly grieving for a father with whom he was a good teacher. He was fond of his adult
had long fought and with whom he had—only pupils, agog in the Quotation Mark Quagmire,
recently, only tenuously—reconciled, Charley and he loved his subject. God, he loved gram-
exchanges his sopping dirty socks for dry dirty mar the way some men love strong drink. But
socks and tucks his grammar book under his no, not to be foolish: President Wachterman is
arm. His father had never quite grasped not going to step down from his helicopter a
Charley’s new job. And had he, he would have different man. He’ll need to find another job.
In the meantime, he’ll catch a bus to Pittsburgh
and a second bus down the timeless river to

201

Ganaego and help bury his last parent. His ar-
gument with his father is over. He’ll spend time
with his brothers as they mourn, not only a
father gone, but a mother gone so long and a
loving, sweet, story-telling grandmother who
had raised Charley. He’ll join in sorting through
the family’s possessions and he will offer to
manage the selling of the house and its many
ghosts. The container ship he saw from his
room now fills the conference room windows.
His father’s death was his problem, after all, all
deaths are our problem.
Ship, snow, birds: How many times has he
gone back to Ganaego?

202









































































Moments like these make me wonder about
people and things I caressed when I was con-
fined to a body. How many of these people did
I touch? How many did I feel? Or did I spend
my days passing through as a human void?
When the body touches, it is an act. When the
spirit touches, it is enlightenment. You excel
into a higher being. Death is only the first part
of transcendence, the first step past the security
gate and into the terminal and closer to flight.
The one penny turns into pennies, turns into
coin purse held by a young woman, turns into
the young woman. A graze turns to a touch
turns to a grasp turns into possession.
It is in the moments just before death, in the heart
pounding and thought rendering moment when you gaze
at impending cataclysms that you feel free. Death is
freedom, as such is fear.
I find myself in a home. It’s an apartment
building up north where the gentrifying came
to spread the religion of hipster-ism. Here, I
grow fear in a garden with humanity. I close
their doors and I open them and I walk
through them because when I pass through
them, it aches. For them. They try spells and
bindings and exorcisms but once fear is bred,
fear will live and fear will spread. Death is free-
dom, as such is fear. The spirit can only be so
when there’s no body to confine its being. In
order for the spirit to truly be free, death must
come. And come, death will to all souls con-
fined.

239

BEST SHORT STORY

THE FINALIST

Lynette Yu

Lynette Yu is a grade 10 student from China, current-
ly studying in West Vancouver Secondary School in
Canada. She has a strong passion for writing since the
age of 7, when her first piece of work, a poem. was
published in a magazine. In 2012, her first book writ-
ten in Mandarin (Xiang Mei Nv Huang) has been pub-
lished by a renowned publishing house in China. The
book is an anthology of all the literary works that she
wrote from 7 to 12. She enjoys reading, drawing, pho-
tography, and playing guitar in her free time. She be-
lieves that words are the most tender creations in the
world.

240

2024 E-MAILS

By Lynette Yu

Ashley and I haven't met. I mean, not yet. Ever since then several people e-mailed me
But I believe we will. Deep down, this is some- back, and they were from different countries:
thing I know for certain. America, France, Canada, Russia and Austral-
Just because she is my best friend. ia…I chatted with them every day. My French
1. pen pal told me that she had a cat named
I might have tons of friends, a lot of good "Peanut", and my Australian pen pal shared
friends. But best friend? That position is only with me about her African trip. I was always
for Ashley. overwhelmed with freshness.
I knew her since 2011 when I was 12 and she It was a warm and idyllic afternoon. I checked
was 13. my mailbox as usual since it became my daily
Actually, it's not so true to call it "met", be- routine ."You got a new e-mail". I click the red
cause we've never met each other, as I men- button, and an e-mail popped up with an unfa-
tioned before. But we know each other so well miliar name.
that she even knows I like to drink milk when I "Hey, what's up! My name is Ashley and let's
get mad, and I know she hates to add garlic on be friends…"
the bread every Tuesday morning. And that's when our friendship started.
We knew most of the secrets about each other. At first, we were like normal friends, shot the
At least that's what I thought at first. She's will- breeze, talked about hobbies, schools and our
ing to be my tree hole, listened to everything I cities. E-mails were novel. Every day I went to
say, shared every little happiness and sadness I school and came home, the first thing I did was
confide and took all my emptiness away. to open my mailbox and replied my friends
Well, she's actually my pen pal from America. around the world, and got to know things
I was just a normal girl from China. There about them, places they were living…Ashley
were nothing special about us. I lived in a small was just one of them, although her e-mails were
city in Southern China, walked to school every always the longest.
day, while she lived in a small town that I've July 12th,2012
never heard before in Western America, home-
schooled. Today New York is about 30～38℃.But it's
I posted my basic information in a pen pal okay! Summer vacation is coming and I'm
website because I was interested in learning looking forward to it! How about your city?
English and making friends around the world. What did you learn in English class in Chinese
It was kind of cool to a 12-year-old little girl school? I'm so curious;
who had the dream to travel around the world.
Ashley

241

July 13th,2012 July 19th,2012
Well, my city is not that hot. I hate summer I was worried…I'm glad that you're okay!
vacation!!!!I have so many homework to do for Ashley
preparing grade 7th! That's just the tip of the iceberg of our e-mails
that I kept in my mailbox. It's just daily talk,
Yasmine but they meant a lot to me. I wasn't good at
July 13th,2012 English back then, and even though I checked
Oh that's sad that you don't like your summer, the dictionary for unfamiliar words or translat-
but it's okay, and I bet you can turn that around ed long sentences in order to send Ashley e-
by thinking of little fun things to do in your mails, I still made tons of grammar mistakes.
spare time. You can simply make a story in Sometimes the e-mails made no sense. Instead
your head and then maybe later you can put it of complaining, Ashley taught me grammar a
on paper! BTW why you are always at home? I lot and never showed impatient or weary. I
went out a lot last few days. knew someone was always there for me from
across the ocean, a stranger that I've never met
Ashley face to face.
July 15th,2012 But our hearts are close.
Thank you, Ashley, Nice advice! :)I must do my So close that we can hear every heartbeat of
homework and then I can go out. I also do each other’s.
some sports. I still remembered when I had tons of tests
and didn't reply Ashley for a week. When I fi-
Yasmine nally got to take a breath, I opened my mailbox.
July 16th,2012 Several long letters appeared.
Do you have those test papers every day? Read- I checked all of them one by one. They were
ing books is fun. History is fun, and I really about daily stuff, talking about her life and ask
want to know about Chinese history:)Last year me if I'm okay. She checked the weather in my
I learned about the 13 Colonies who fought in city and told me to keep warm.
the American Revolutionary War against the I read through them and my eyes watering.
British to win freedom and to be separated And I remembered I was 13 that year, having
from The British. And that's why we celebrate no friends at school, quiet and lonely.
Fourth of July. 2.
Ashley and I decided to set up a band.
Ashley I told Ashley about how I failed to be chosen
July 18th,2012 as the guitar player in the school band. The
Hey, I just heard from the news that there was arrogant student judge looked at me from head
an earthquake in China. Are you okay?? to toe and suddenly burst into laughter.
"Guitar player? You?" She pointed at me. Her
Ashley friends who stood next to her all laughed. My
July 19th,2012 cheeks turned red and said nothing.
I'm fine! It's not in my city so I'm okay:)) Ridiculous.
Thanks for asking though. Who wants me to be their guitar player, any-
ways?

242

I was angry but also crestfallen, so I emailed 3.
Ashley. What happened then, was that Ashley was the
August 5th, 2013 only one who left in my mailbox.
I tried to join the music band in our school, but I lost contact with other pen pals one after
they simply just told me that "You can't". This another, either I was too lazy to reply them nor
is so unfair. Or maybe I'm not good at playing they never wrote me back anymore.
guitar at all?:( But not Ashley. I changed a lot because of her.
Yasmine I became talkative, confident and brave. I made
August 6th, 2013 several friends since grade 7.
I'm sorry for you. But remember, It doesn't We mailed packages to each other back and
matter how other people see you, as long as I forth. I mailed her some bracelets that I made,
know you're excellent. Don't listen to them, just a nice round wallet, and some pictures I
trust yourself! Don't give up on your guitar! drew.She mailed me back a handbook which
How about let's set up a band together! I can includes a map of America, a little sculpture of
do the lyrics! Friendship Angel and some photos of her. One
Ashley of the angel's wings was broken, so I glued it
August 6th, 2013 back and put it on my desk. I told her I love
OMG!!!This should be on my wish list! We def- books, so she put some English books in the
initely should do it now! package, though I had a hard time reading
Yasmine them, I still checked the dictionary word for
A band. I stared at the screen for a while. No word. My favourite book was the one called
matter how they teased me in school, I'm going The House on Mango Street. I knew she loves
to be in a band. Chinese food, therefore I put several snacks in.
Because of the promise, I started to practice It was my first time packing little gifts in a box
guitar harder. I tried to compose songs, record- and mailed them. I remembered how I copied
ed every single music clips and sent them to her address neatly, worried if she couldn't
Ashley. receive it if the postman is unable to recognize
Our most satisfying work was a song called what I wrote.
Fate. Ashly did the lyrics. Since it's hard to In 2015, I went to America to study, in Seattle,
combine the lyrics and accompaniment, I failed WA. It's a huge decision to make. Going
several times. Finally, I recorded the best ver- aboard means I have to leave my family far, far
sion and sent it to Ashley. In the audio file, I away, go to a completely new environment,
played the guitar and sang out loud: start a new life.
Fate is something you can never predict But still, I chose to go to America. I just know
Born to be who you are, the decision was right.
Live as what you shaped, Although after I made this decision, I always
But hey, woke up in the middle of night, convinced
Even though you are caged and feel sorrow, myself it's not true, and cried to sleep.
Don't complain In somehow, I was excited about the
Cuz it'll surprise you unpredictable journey. Ashley was excited as
You just have to wait. well, not only because we won't have a twelve
hours' time difference, but also due to the
reason that we could have a chance to meet
each other. Perhaps we can do what best
friends do, hanging out with each
other, shopping and laughing on the street. The

243

distance between us was not far, it only took 3 especially feelings. I forgot how excited I was,
hours of driving from the place she lived to my running into the post office, looking at the lady
school. who put my package on an electronic balance
And the band. This is gong to come true. and asked me to copy the address neatly.
Well, actually, meet up is what I was expecting I don't know what to do, so we can be closer,
for. It seemed like she doesn't really like the just like before.
idea. 4.
School in America is much more different from In January 2017, a normal day, I was bored and
Chinese school. When I first came to America, randomly opened my mailbox, checked if I re-
language is not really a problem for me to deal ceived any new e-mails. Ashley's emails popped
with. Yes, my English sucks when I was 12 up, some of them were from last week and I
years old, but thanks to Ashley, during 4 years, left them unopened.
I barely have an accent and was able to com- It's no more than greetings and her daily talk. I
municate with native speakers. I started to get opened the latest one, typed “Hey what's up”
used to my new life. and pressed “send” button.
I still e-mailed Ashley every day. She liked to Then I randomly clicked her name. Tons of e-
hear stories about my new school. mails popped up. I click one of the e-mails
"Yasmine, I envy you so much, and feel happy which was titled with "OUR SONG!!!"I still
for you as well! How I wish I can go to kept this e-mail from years ago. I opened the
school.” She said. audio file attached to it . I heard my voice com-
Time is like a potion. ing out, singing the song Fate slowly.
And Ashley, accompanied me to drink the po- I remembered Ashley calling it a "masterpiece"
tion. We all grow. when she first heard the song. How can I just
But one horrible fact of growing is oblivion. throw away the promise? We promised each
In 2016, I barely contact Ashley. Her e-mails other to set up a band.
lay silently in my mailbox. I hardly check them. I turned around and grab my guitar leaning
Well, sometimes, I do, but we talk less, thus it against the wall which I haven't played for
feels like there's an intangible bridge between years. I zipped the guitar bag and took it out
us. We looked at each other from two sides of with great care. It's covered with heavy dust. I
the bridge, I shouted out perfunctory words as tried to play the first chord in the song, which
responses to her care and concerns. Neither of sounded so familiar. The memories suddenly
us can reach each other. It seemed like she's pieced together.
hiding something from me, and that's what I downloaded the audio file to my phone, at-
drifted us apart. tached to a new e-mail and sent it to Ashley.
Two years had passed, we haven't got a chance "Check this," I wrote ,"I miss that time. Re-
to meet. Every time when I suggested to meet, member we planned to set up a band back
she always saying things like “Sounds cool” then?"
“Yeah sure”, and thus I carried out a lot of But this time, Ashley didn't write me back in
plans for our meet-ups, she always brushed me few minutes. I received her e-mail one week
off by saying she doesn't have time, or she al- after that day.
ready has a plan that day. Sometimes I won- The weird thing is, the e-mail was short.
dered if she's real. If so, why did she keep turn- "I do remember…And by the way, I'm going
ing me down? I was disappointed most of the on a self-driving tour to Seattle with my mom
time, but barely asked her why. next week. Let's meet there as you see fit", she
And I just kept forgetting things. Memories, wrote, "There's something I wanted to talk to
you, face to face. About truth."

244

Let's meet? I stared at the screen, confused. A tender voice called tentatively when I almost
What does she mean by that? Does she change fell asleep. I looked up.
her mind or what? Thousands of question Ashley?
marks exploded in my mind. The girl has huge brown eyes, her brownish
“Truth?” I wrote her back, although all of these hair hangs down on her shoulders softly. We
caught me off guard, “Are you serious, Ashley? have each other's photo. But still, she's not sure
You mean you're going to meet me? Why? In if it's really me.
Seattle? What's the location?” I'm sure it's her, according to the photo. But
“Yes, I'm serious. But yet I can't tell you why. she looked pale and frail in reality.
Can we meet at this place? I always want to go “Sorry…wrong people…” she apologized.
there. ”She sent me a screenshot of Google “What…No! I'm Yasmine!” I explained right
Map, it's a small and remote Cafe. I've never away, “So you must be Ashley!”
been there, but it looked nice on the photo. “Oh my…”she suddenly cupped her hands on
“Sure, just contact me once you arrived.” I re- her cheeks, her voice shaking as if she's
plied, then shut down the computer and extremely excited, “Gosh, Yasmine! This is
rubbed my eyes. unbelievable…I…I don't know what to say…”
If I know the truth Ashley was hiding, will the We finally meet.It was so unreal.
bridge between us break? Or do I want to “It has been what, six years!” She cried out the
know the truth? Will it disappoint me again? number.
Suddenly I felt a bit uneasy. “Ashley…why do you suddenly want to meet
5. me?” I asked her directly, “I mean, these two
Eventually, she e-mailed me this Wednesday. years you were always turning me down. Why
We planned to meet at 1:00 P.M. on Thursday. this time? What is the truth?”
On Thursday, I woke up early and waited for She lowered her eyes and said nothing. After a
the bus, holding my guitar. The bus was full of while, she looked up and stared into my eyes. I
people, so I had to stand. The unwieldy guitar saw her eyes filled with something I don't
made my movement inconvenient, and when understand. They became unclear.
the bus braked, I almost fell down. After an Then she cleared her throat.
hour and a half, I finally got off the bus and "Yasmine, please forgive me. I'm so sorry.
took a deep breath. Please don't be mad at me."
I'm ready, I told myself. "Why? What for?"
I followed the navigation and found the Cafe Ashley took a deep breath as if she's calming
near the corner. It's painted in sky blue, when I herself down. Then she began to talk slowly,
pushed the door, the wind chimes hanging on her voice shaking.
the door rang. Few people were in there. "I got polio at the age of 2."She sighed. "I can
I ordered a cup of Cappuccino and sat near the hardly walk."
windows. Then she pointed her seat. She was sitting on a
I waited and waited, played my cup anxiously, wheelchair. I didn't notice it before.
and checked the clock every five minutes. I "Oh…"I opened my mouth, but nothing came
even folded and unfolded my napkins several out.
times to while away my time. "You can be mad at me for not telling you any
What's going to happen? I don't know. Yet.
“Yasmine?”

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