The Invention of Exile (2014)
“He can see out the window a sliver of the moon, not yet faded from the night sky and hanging like an eyelash. He feels the sheet over him in his small bed, the stillness of his body in the still morning, seeing if he can perhaps lull himself back to sleep even if for just an hour. He lies on his back, staring at the ceiling, also painted gray, except for the areas where peeling paint reveals a deep-sea blue green, and if he squints his eyes in a certain way or stares long enough so that his vis...ion blurs, the successive curls of paint look not unlike a flutter of butterflies. He next tries lying on his side, legs outstretched, legs bent in fetal position. Neither position works. He rolls onto his back once more, this time bending his legs so that the sheet drapes off his knees creating a white peak, like Iztaccihuatl, he thinks, the white woman.
But it’s no use. He is fooling himself. He will no longer be able to sleep on this morning and even though his eyes are drooping, and one or two times do actually close, he wills himself to sit up.MoreLess
But it’s no use. He is fooling himself. He will no longer be able to sleep on this morning and even though his eyes are drooping, and one or two times do actually close, he wills himself to sit up.MoreLess
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