Faerie Read Online Free PDF

for her spectacular furry unibrow.
    â€œToday we’re outside,” said Mr Reed, our phys-ed teacher,pointing his stubby finger toward the doors. We hauled ourselves off the benches and into the crisp, frigid air. The shock of cold pleased me. I was glad to be outdoors, where I was liberated from thinking, and my body was free to experience the mechanical grind of physical activity. I ran across the soggy field and icy grass. Fuelled with fat, my thighs thundered as each foot landed on the ground. As I orbited the track, I heard Mr Reed barking, “Ladies, move your fat butts!” provoking the boys to push back against any traces of femininity in themselves, as if it were a disease, and impelling the girls to loathe our own natures. I ran, fuelled by those words, and set in motion the faerie creature, who followed the laws of a different nature, one not ruled by sex or size, age or time.

08 . Don’t Stand So Close to Me
    I began to keep a daily log of my caloric intake after reading an article in Mother’s most recent issue of Good Housekeeping. It said that “diets were impractical without a calorie diary” and offered a list of helpful tips to curb carb cravings. It also gave suggestions of low-calorie alternatives: “Craving chocolate? Have a stick of celery. Hankering for a hamburger? Nibble on cucumber.” As a bonus, the magazine included a complimentary calorie counter.
    I found the perfect calorie diary in my dad’s university office one afternoon while I waited for his Friday lecture to end. It was a crimson notebook with a glossy cover that beckoned me like an Eden-red apple. Inside, it was blank, with smooth, pure white pages lined with grids—pages upon pages of miniature squares into which I could scribble a single caloric digit. The fixed and definite lines were comforting; they reassured me that my goal was at hand. There was no room to wander, to digress with words and wants and feelings.
    This time, I told myself, I’m really going to get the weight off. I will be methodical about jotting down every morsel, every crumb, anything short of my own saliva. My mission was to be more disciplined, and this diary would be my first symbolic gesture.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  1 whole wheat toast = 72 calories
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  250 mL 2% milk = 120 calories
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  1 tbsp strawberry jam = 15 calories
    Glorious! I was excited to find a new tool, and one small enough to keep in a deep secret pocket.
    Not like my other diary, which was bulky and bloated with outpourings of grief, scribblings of heartache and disenchantment, of brooding and longing. Lots of longing. If longing were food, it would be a calorie-busting serving of English fish and chips. Notes from my grade-ten diary:
    I have fallen headfirst for my English teacher. He looks like he just walked out of a music video. More precisely, he looks like “Don’t Stand So Close to Me” Sting. This underaged girleen is getting herself into some double deep trouble.
    Let me recall the delicious moment when I first laid my eyes on dreamy Mr Black. It was a dull Monday early in November, when red poppies appear pinned on collars and suits and forgotten old soldiers turn up on street corners, only to fade out again until the following November. The opiate poppy seemed to have produced in me the dreamiest feeling as I sleepwalked from the school bus into the classroom and saw him standing near his desk in a streak of sunshine. He turned to look at me just as I saw him, and in that moment our eyes locked. It was as though he had emerged from the belly of an ancient dream to appearbefore me. My gaze fell to my feet, and I folded myself into my dependable desk. How does one respond to the first shivering moment of desire?
    There was a commotion in the classroom, hissing, whispers, coughing chuckles. Curious glances and notes were exchanged across the rows of