Nikolas
by Patrícia Ribeiro
Issue No. 211 ~ December, 2014
Now, with his mother too weak to leave the basement, Nik, at the brave age of eleven, was gathering the food.
Now, with his mother too weak to leave the basement, Nik, at the brave age of eleven, was gathering the food.
Her head moves quickly in front of her, bowed in an attempt to distinguish what is earth and what is food.
When the fighting began in the city below, the rich escaped our hotel. Private helicopters swooped in, leaving those without power or money to be captured by the rebel forces.
He walks an extra kilometer in the minus thirty air to use Spadina Station’s Lowther Road entrance and celebrate his fiftieth birthday.
These children under our scrutiny are abnormal. They appear to resist growth.
I could imagine as I saw the water, the dark strokes of the ocean. The water carried the meaning of the beach.
Slowly, the children will start to look like me.
I remember her begging me to help her up, her saying, "I'm sorry. I am. Really. Don't look at me like that."
Dad’s dagger collection? Too dangerous. Dad’s digital camera? We need something less complicated.
I’m constantly disillusioned and paranoid.