(excerpt)
Words weren’t of much use this morning. All three knew this day was to develop much like all other days, except for Anton and his new job at the Kamloops Indian Residential School. Soon as he finished his breakfast and he said goodbye he jumped in his truck and drove away towards the other side of the river, just five minutes away.
The city was awakened to the prodding of the sun and to the light that needed to be enjoyed and felt on backs of people, on buds almost ready to bloom, on facades of stores and on the walls of houses arrayed along the few streets that make up Kamloops, the center of earth for the travellers, for the logging truck drivers, for the occasional tourists who pass by on their way to the coast, the city that you couldn’t call pretty, what could really be called pretty in Kamloops? Yet this small interior city was a marvellous natural beauty sitting in the middle of cross roads that connected north to south and east to west, a beautiful city with two big supermarkets, two big department stores; what one would never see in Kamloops was people swarming the sidewalks and roads, only, sometimes, one might meet a swarm of customers in one of the two supermarkets especially when they offered certain popular items on a good sale.
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Manolis Aligizakis 