Read Online The Hawkweed Prophecy by Irena Brignull - Free Book Online
Authors: Irena Brignull
Ads: Link
imagine herself as one of them, wanting to but finding it inconceivable.
She passed them unnoticed, hidden by her hat, lost inside the baggy folds of her coat. Then she stopped suddenly outside a pharmacy as the nail polish on display in the window caught her eye, a rainbow of glistening colors. She walked inside the store, and when she came out it was raining hard, the groups had dispersed, and people werenât lingering anymore; they were rushing past, underneath umbrellas. Poppy tucked the small shopping bag into the wide pocket of her coat. She didnât want it to get wet. Inside was a manicure set, the first sheâd ever bought. Not for herselfâher nails were bitten to the fleshâbut for Ember. Just in case , she told herself. Just in case she ever saw her again.
Rain from the awning above Poppyâs head overflowed and spilled onto her hat with a plop. The sound made her smile.
C HAPTER S EVEN
L eo was sheltering in a doorway, cursing the weather. He had stuffed his bag between his legs, trying to shield it from the rain, and was wondering where he was going to sleep that night when a bike zipped past on the pavement and its wheel sprayed a dirty puddle over him. As he looked up angrily, a girl on the pavement caught his eye.
She was alone but she was smiling. The smile laid her bare, stripping her from all the usual disguises people wear to cover up how they really feel. And she was standing still. If she had been frowning like everyone else, or hurrying on her way like everyone else, or under an umbrella like everyone else, Leo wouldnât have paid any attention. Instead, he noticed her and he saw not just her smile but the shape of her lips, the line of her jaw, the length of her neck.
Then the girl stepped out from under the edge of the awning, took off her hat, and raised her head to the sky. The cool rain hit her face, gliding over her skin, pooling in her collarbones, and trickling down beneath her coat, under her clothes.
Leo became conscious of how huddled he was on the doorstep, hiding from the elements while she embraced them. He bent his head, contrite somehow, and when he looked again, she was walking away. Her hat was pulled down low on her head and her big coat flowed behind her so that Leo had to search for a last sight of the girl within. Then he saw them, her fingertips, just visible beneath the long sleeves, the tiniest glimpse revealed before the girl was gone.
He had been living on the streets for nearly a year now. It felt like forever, though. Occasionally heâd see a newbie roaming around the train station, with a cheek bruised and swollen or a gash on his head. As he witnessed them being kicked away from the usual hangouts, not knowing where to curl up for the night or which shops gave away the âpast their sell-by dateâ food, heâd remember what he had been like when he first ran away. Defiant by day, terrified by night. Now he knew to keep his head down. Heâd marked out his small piece of turf, and heâd found out who was all right and which crazies to steer well clear of. Life was all about survival, day to day, hour to hour sometimes.
When Leo felt sorry for himself, he often thought about the kids who had trod the same piece of land all those centuries before himâworking in the fields, or down in the pits, or in the mills, or homeless just like him. Perhaps things werenât that different after all. Food, water, warmthâstill the essentials, and still hard to come by for someone like him, someone without a home or a family or anyone who gave a damn.
Yet among the alkies and the druggies, the psychos and the pervs, there was kindness to be found too. Not just a favor or a bit of sympathy, but real, big gestures that humbled him. Thewoman at the gymâKimâwho let him sneak inside to take a shower after closing time. The librarian who let him spend hours in the warmth of the library, reading books, and told him when
She passed them unnoticed, hidden by her hat, lost inside the baggy folds of her coat. Then she stopped suddenly outside a pharmacy as the nail polish on display in the window caught her eye, a rainbow of glistening colors. She walked inside the store, and when she came out it was raining hard, the groups had dispersed, and people werenât lingering anymore; they were rushing past, underneath umbrellas. Poppy tucked the small shopping bag into the wide pocket of her coat. She didnât want it to get wet. Inside was a manicure set, the first sheâd ever bought. Not for herselfâher nails were bitten to the fleshâbut for Ember. Just in case , she told herself. Just in case she ever saw her again.
Rain from the awning above Poppyâs head overflowed and spilled onto her hat with a plop. The sound made her smile.
C HAPTER S EVEN
L eo was sheltering in a doorway, cursing the weather. He had stuffed his bag between his legs, trying to shield it from the rain, and was wondering where he was going to sleep that night when a bike zipped past on the pavement and its wheel sprayed a dirty puddle over him. As he looked up angrily, a girl on the pavement caught his eye.
She was alone but she was smiling. The smile laid her bare, stripping her from all the usual disguises people wear to cover up how they really feel. And she was standing still. If she had been frowning like everyone else, or hurrying on her way like everyone else, or under an umbrella like everyone else, Leo wouldnât have paid any attention. Instead, he noticed her and he saw not just her smile but the shape of her lips, the line of her jaw, the length of her neck.
Then the girl stepped out from under the edge of the awning, took off her hat, and raised her head to the sky. The cool rain hit her face, gliding over her skin, pooling in her collarbones, and trickling down beneath her coat, under her clothes.
Leo became conscious of how huddled he was on the doorstep, hiding from the elements while she embraced them. He bent his head, contrite somehow, and when he looked again, she was walking away. Her hat was pulled down low on her head and her big coat flowed behind her so that Leo had to search for a last sight of the girl within. Then he saw them, her fingertips, just visible beneath the long sleeves, the tiniest glimpse revealed before the girl was gone.
He had been living on the streets for nearly a year now. It felt like forever, though. Occasionally heâd see a newbie roaming around the train station, with a cheek bruised and swollen or a gash on his head. As he witnessed them being kicked away from the usual hangouts, not knowing where to curl up for the night or which shops gave away the âpast their sell-by dateâ food, heâd remember what he had been like when he first ran away. Defiant by day, terrified by night. Now he knew to keep his head down. Heâd marked out his small piece of turf, and heâd found out who was all right and which crazies to steer well clear of. Life was all about survival, day to day, hour to hour sometimes.
When Leo felt sorry for himself, he often thought about the kids who had trod the same piece of land all those centuries before himâworking in the fields, or down in the pits, or in the mills, or homeless just like him. Perhaps things werenât that different after all. Food, water, warmthâstill the essentials, and still hard to come by for someone like him, someone without a home or a family or anyone who gave a damn.
Yet among the alkies and the druggies, the psychos and the pervs, there was kindness to be found too. Not just a favor or a bit of sympathy, but real, big gestures that humbled him. Thewoman at the gymâKimâwho let him sneak inside to take a shower after closing time. The librarian who let him spend hours in the warmth of the library, reading books, and told him when
Similar Books
