Thursday, 23 July 2020
The Girl Who Was Jack Kerouac
No Lucas. It was a slow cleansing, drawers and cupboards and entire rooms. And when the house was empty - no voices, no children and grandchildren, no neighbours with casseroles - Nancy stacked the boxes of Lucas’ no longer needed possessions on the doorstep too. They grew warm from the sunshine. She leaned in and wrote his name on the cardboard with her fingertips. She curled up beside them and ransacked her memories from that first day at university, searching for his face.