The Furies by Katie Lowe

Author:Katie Lowe [Lowe, Katie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780008288990
Google: 6gycvwEACAAJ
Amazon: B07JMNVRHP
Goodreads: 36392972
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2019-05-01T23:00:00+00:00

Spring

Chapter 11

‘“Midway upon the journey of our life I found myself within a forest dark, for the straightforward pathway had been lost”,’ Professor Malcolm said, his arms outstretched like some poor ham actor.

‘I’m sure many of us in this room can appreciate this sentiment, whether at the midway point of our lives or otherwise.’ A few students offered ironic laughs; Robin raised an eyebrow sharply, and rolled her eyes. I, for my part, stared numbly into the shoulders of the student in front of me, trying to wake up, to blink away another excruciating hangover.

Clouds of silver smoke rising languid from an ashtray in a dank café; the tempered crack of milky tablets from plastic slides; a bird’s tangled corpse, the prickle of sticky bone and beak as Robin crushed it under a heavy boot. My heart, thundering frantic as I slumped over the edge of the bed, watching peeling posters shudder at the corner of my vision; the perpetual feeling of being watched, the thin rip of paper as I pulled them down, faces torn and jagged.

Little children watching, scared, as the four of us rocked on the swings, hands cold on chain, in an empty playground, before the storm began. Running, screaming, through the rain, manic and alive with violent breath.

My hands bruised black with hair dye, Robin’s, then mine; grazed knees, white shreds of skin in the dirt; warm water and cheap wine, straight from the bottle. Nausea. Vomit, marbled with spit, the cool relief of the toilet bowl. Aching bones. Last night’s mascara, in fragments on my cheek. Even now, my memories of the spring break are thus, clouded in the low haze of intoxication.

It says something of our shared state that I, in truth, remember those two weeks only in brief, momentary flashes, detached from their source, uprooted and carried on a breeze.

‘You look like shit,’ Robin hissed, and slid a tiny, rolled-up ball of cling film across the desk. ‘Take one of these. It’ll make you feel better.’

‘What is it?’ I whispered, though of course I knew.

‘Pick-me-up,’ she said, face deadly serious, a web of tiredness under her eyes too. Clearly it wasn’t enough to counteract the effects of the previous night. With a sigh, she placed a palm over the wrap.

‘If you’re not going to take them, at least cover them up,’ she said, eyes now a little fierce, their pupils round and glassy. I shook my head, and the pills disappeared in a single, deft movement. I felt abashed, shrinking a little into my chair as Robin turned abruptly to face the front of the class.

I looked out at the burning red-brick buildings, the cluster of sparrows swooping at crumbs in the grass while the campus lay empty, all students still at home, or trapped in class, and the workmen clearing trees having briefly stopped, air mercifully silent. In the spring sunlight, the stony faces of the figures that peered down from the buildings seemed possessed of a new clarity: it was

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