The Secret Society Of Demolition Writers - Plot & Excerpts
He’s already on his feet when he feels the cold bite his prick. He doesn’t bother looking down but stands rooted to the freezing floor, his muscles bunched into a knot, his breath misting the air in front of his face.Fifteen minutes later, he’s showered and dressed. He leaves Janice sleeping and walks outside to his car. Along the roadside in Somerville, snow is piled a yard high, though only the top few inches are fresh and white; these he cleans off his windshield with a gloved hand.While the engine warms, he sits behind the wheel staring at a photograph in a clear plastic frame bolted to the dashboard: his father standing in a driveway, grinning beside a red and white ’58 Corvette, lug wrench in hand, sleeves rolled up and grease smudged on his muscled forearms. A man about the same age Banks is now. A married man with a job and a pretty wife and a five-year-old boy, who are not in the picture. The car, recently waxed, gleams under intense sunlight. His father looks proud, happy.
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