George Saunders Wins 2017 Man Booker Prize
4 days ago
For some authors, the most interesting things can be found scribbled in the margins of their manuscripts. At the very least, I hope what you find here to be interesting.
It was night. It was windy. The girl stood on the roof. A man walked up to her. He gave her a paper. Then the man jumped off. The girl read the paper and cried and threw the paper away.
It was a dark and stormy night. The wind howled around the corners of the street. Above the street, the wind and rain assaulted the rooftops.
On the roof stood a girl, wearing a dark trench coat with a hat pulled low over her eyes. Whether it was meant to keep out the rain, or hide her face wasn’t clear. She seemed to be waiting for someone. It must be an exceedingly serious reason to be out on a rooftop in such blustery wind and biting rain.
Suddenly, the rooftop door opened. The wind slammed it against the wall. The man standing in the doorway had long, stringy hair and a cruel-looking face. His countenance made the scar across one eye look almost cheerful. He stepped out onto the roof, leaving the old wooden door to slam and swing back and forth helplessly in the wind.
As he walked up to the girl in the broad-rimmed hat, he held out his right hand. Clenched in his fist was a paper envelope wrapped in plastic. She hesitated, but accepted the mysterious package. In a flash of lightning, she could just barely make out the address on the outside of the envelope.
She looked up to ask a question just as he stepped up onto the ledge. This was so startling that her question froze unvoiced in her throat. Then the man jumped.
She stepped forward, but it was too late. He was gone, even more mysteriously than he came. She ripped open the envelope and held the letter in both hands to keep the wind from ripping it away. As she read, her sudden tears mixed with the pouring rain. She finished the letter and stood, frozen, shocked. Finally, she opened her fingers and let the wind take the hateful letter out of her life.
The Theif was rideing a stolen bicycle he had gotten from the Clown Cheif. The fameous Cheif had said that it was absolutly the safest ride in town. The clowns had decieved the theif, however. The bike was not the safest ride at all; it was a hopeless peice of junk. There idea of a joke was going to leave the theif sitting they’re on the side of the road. Although the theif beleived that it was a well-mad bike, the wheels were becomeing a problem. The rubber was wasteing away as he rode. Soon, he was sitting in the gutter, hopeing to recieve a bit of timly luck. Fortunatly, a nieghbor was driveing by at that very moment. They threw the bike into the trash and went looking for thier freinds the clowns.