Canterbury

• Joshua Gray, Grade 12
• Short Story
• 2013

In the pounding rain of the winter morning, the insignificant lump of flesh that is my body slides across the rugby field propelled by the force of my 6 foot, ninety-four kilogram attacker. Flames lick the walls of my foundations, my entire brain consumed by the throb of broken bones and bruising muscle tissue.
He grabs ahold of the muddy, blood stained rags wrapped around my chest one last time and stares into my eyes as I picture my childhood tennis coach and the desperation felt by a thousand broken homes of the past and future. For the present, I felt the force of his escape. Tomorrow I would be fine.