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Weekly Contest #235
[This is the first chapter of a novel about grief, based on a runner. It contains themes of death and mental health.] It was April, the first year without my brother, and I was throwing up in a bed of hyacinths. I only knew they were hyacinths because Mom had some planted in our garden back in New York, and for days she talked about how the landscapers put them in lopsided. I didn’t know flowers could be lopsided. That’s what I thought about as I sat there in the dirt, staring dizzy at the flowers, wet and blue and bright. ...
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