The Last Season
“I smelled Sudbury twenty miles before I ever saw a building. At first I thought the old lady with the two shopping bags in front of me had let go a squirter; but no, it was the stacks. When I looked out to the left I could see the smoke; the sky which all the way had been as clear as Ig’s eyes now looked like some kid had thrown a rotten squash up against it, yellow streaks heading off farther than the eye could see. Along the roadside the bush disappeared, not gradually but instantly, the spru...ce and rolling hills suddenly giving way to a landscape that could only be described as rusted out. Like Danny said, the moon. The Americans were spending millions to get there; I’d found it for seven dollars and thirty-five cents.
The bus pulled into the Sudbury depot in ninety-degree heat, the air rippling above the downtown rocks. Sudbury looked like a junkyard for other towns, the dump where they unloaded everything that didn’t fit or had broken down or was too old to be of any use anymore.MoreLess
The bus pulled into the Sudbury depot in ninety-degree heat, the air rippling above the downtown rocks. Sudbury looked like a junkyard for other towns, the dump where they unloaded everything that didn’t fit or had broken down or was too old to be of any use anymore.MoreLess
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