In the First Early Days of My Death Read Online Free PDF

citizens’ group had persuaded a judge to sign an order preventing the demolition until they could make a presentation at a public forum. But the reporter implied that the citizens’ group was a small fringe element, the order an insignificant hitch, a temporary delay. Felix read the article twice, but he saw no mention of yesterday’s rally. Typical journalism. The reporter had probably spent the day at the beach.
    Felix made his tea and carried it out to the screened porch. He sat on the couch and set his cup on the wicker table, next to the Book of Changes , which was lying open where he’d left it yesterday morning. The three coins in their jade box gleamed in the sunlight.
    He held the box in both hands for a moment, contemplating the intricate morning shadows cast by the porch lattice and the poplar trees, the small slivers and crosses of sunlight that mottled the walls and wooden floor of the porch. A slight breeze came up, and the branches moved; the pattern shifted. He rattled the jade box gently and opened his hands, letting the coins fall through the air.

    The mayor’s office was on the sixth floor of City Hall. Not high enough for the mayor when he was in one of the majestic, proprietary moods that seized him unexpectedly from time to time. When such a mood came upon him, as it did this morning, he would saunter briskly down the corridors, descend to the basement, and follow the underground paths that snaked beneath Portage and Main until he was directly under the Commodity Exchange Building. Then he’d enter the elevator and rise to the thirty-third floor, where he’d pretend to require a consultation with the accountants of his construction firm — his former firm, that is — he’d had to sign it over to a blind trust when he was elected. Today, the accountants were not yet in their offices. It was far too early. The mayor nodded to the security guards, then used his key to let himself into the empty suite. He stood alone before the magnificent bank of windows that ran the entire circumference of the building. He savoured these moments, his whole city spread out below him like the toy towns he used to build as a child. He felt he could reach down and pluck up a tree, or a whole forest of trees, move a church or two, a department store. Maybe push the whole North End of the city a little farther north.
    He smiled as his eyes passed over the site of the future casino. The publicity in today’s paper was good, and it would only get better, thanks to his wife, Louise. He glanced at his watch. Where was Louise? She’d promised to call him after her morning jog through Assiniboine Park. She was on a fitness craze these days, and kept up her daily exercise religiously, despite the vicious heat, and despite the fact that she didn’t seem to be losing any weight.

    Noni’s leg ached more than usual this morning. She wondered if her lost knee was developing arthritis. Stiffly, she sat up in bed and grabbed the crutch beside the dresser. Then she swung herself down the hall of her apartment and into the kitchen, where she prepared a breakfast of coffee and Aspirins.
    She’d dreamed last night that she was flying a kite in Happyland Park, with Wendy. It was Wendy’s red butterfly kite, the one that, in reality, had a crack in its frame and a broken string. In the dream, the crack had healed, and instead of a string, the kite was attached to a red dog leash, and Wendy was running across the grass beside the stream, trying to launch the kite into the air.
    â€œWait up!” Noni called, but Wendy ran farther and farther away, toward the little fork where the stream entered the Seine River. Noni couldn’t keep up. Soon, all she could see was the kite ascending above the trees. It fluttered its way along the banks of the Seine, north, toward the Red. And then she’d woken with her knee on fire.
    Noni rubbed her eyes, trying to clear away the wisps of the