Zack Wilson writes prose, but prose that is so poetic we decided to publish him any way...
Available from www.erbacce-press.com
On April 21 2010 1 Views
Erbacce On 21/04/2010
Opening paragraphs from VULNERABLE, BREAKABLE
By Zack Wilson
The first hint of winter in Hillsborough air and I’m boarding a Yellow Route tram to town and work. Office girls, neat in black hipsters, trying to move heads in the wind to keep their hair in check, check anxious times whilst fat office boys with slab faces of soft dissipation text their mates. We move as a throng as the tram arrives, jostling for position. I’m on and I turn right up three steps to where there’s no seats so I stand, leaning against the window of the empty driver’s cab at the rear of the tram, facing the way we’re going.
Standing, I’m conspicuous amongst the seated ladies, one of whom is more conspicuous to me than the others. She’s looking out of the window, a still, slight built brunette whose bony knees poke through the fabric of her black trouser suit and make her look vulnerable, breakable but with a defiant female strength that you know would endure with a quiet, white flame. Her eyes are large and pale grey, her cheekbones high in a thin, brown face that makes her teeth seem larger and whiter than they are behind the little pink lines of her lips that could nibble with gentle precision. She’s wearing simple flip-flop black leather shoes. Her feet are long and thin, tiny toes with pale pink nails the same shade as her lips. A silver ring is on the middle toe of her right foot. Smooth, brown feet, just a little bit dirty.