48 Half Hours Contest To Sweep Canada. (CNW Group/Newfoundland and Labrador Tourism)

“It’s so flat,” I said.

She smiled. I could think of nothing else to say. Sky. Wind. Light. Air. Cold, Grey. Far. Salt. Smell. Now all these words meant something they had never meant before, and the word sea contained them all. The word sea spread outward in my mind, flooding all its chambers until, by that one word, every word I knew was changed. I would find, the next day that from having seen the sea, I was better able to smell and taste it, too, no matter where in the city I was- indoors, outdoors, at home, at school, in my bedroom late at night.

“They don’t know we’re here,” she said. “We know we’re here .We know all about them. But they don’t know we’re here.”

“Who?”

People elsewhere, she said; the people we knew about from reading books and magazines; the people on whose lives we modeled ours, like whom we ate and dressed, like whose houses our own were furnished and whose pastimes we pursued.”

  • my last post from “The Navigator of New York” (2002) by Wayne Johnston. Just finished reading today. Thanks Wayne. (And thanks Julie O. for lending me her copy.)
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