Owen Marshall Selected Stories (2008)
“The motels were concrete block, painted cream both inside and out, so that several times that evening it took Mervyn a moment to recall if he’d come inside, or was still standing outside. There was a shower so confined that it felt like a coffin. ‘Oh, it’s only for one night, isn’t it,’ his wife said. ‘One night won’t kill you.’ The owners, the Perrits, had four units near the steep road, then their own home that looked as though it, too, was painted cream inside and out, then a long strip of l...awn, with a faded trampoline to justify the phrase, children’s play area, in the brochure. Right at the back, by a Japanese box hedge, was a tin garden shed with high windows.
Mervyn had these pills for what ailed him, and after he’d taken a couple he couldn’t settle to watch the game show on the television. Whoever was going to win the family sedan, the trip with spending money to Los Angeles, or be dismissed with just the sponsor’s products, seemed a long way from the Astle Motels.MoreLess
Mervyn had these pills for what ailed him, and after he’d taken a couple he couldn’t settle to watch the game show on the television. Whoever was going to win the family sedan, the trip with spending money to Los Angeles, or be dismissed with just the sponsor’s products, seemed a long way from the Astle Motels.MoreLess
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