Cancer Inglisensis (Barrow City Stories, #7) by Inanna Gabriel - Read Online
Cancer Inglisensis (Barrow City Stories, #7)
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Summary

"I believe it necessary for this young man to witness firsthand the suffering of others," said the judge sentencing Ethan Nguyen to community service in the cancer ward of Airmed Hospital. His sudden ability to see the cancer around him in the form of monstrous insects, however, ws far more than he or the judge intended or expected. Join Ethan on his nightmare descent into disease and discovery in this story inspired by "Caterpillars" by E.F. Benson.

Published: Inanna Gabriel on
ISBN: 9781516325696
List price: $0.99
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Cancer Inglisensis (Barrow City Stories, #7) - Inanna Gabriel

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About this story

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This story is an original work of fiction.  The caterpillars themselves, however, and their purpose is taken from the story Caterpillars by E.F. Benson, which was published in 1921 and is now in the public domain.

1

Another pitcher, boys? the waitress asked.

Sure, said Shawn. He’s buying.

Dude, Ethan said, rolling his dark, almond shaped eyes. "I am so not buying." It was a routine they performed with every round.

Dorie stood, waiting for them to finish. She was like a surrogate mother to most of the Barrow City University kids who hung out in the bar; in most cases, a cooler, more permissive model than the one back home.

When they at last figured out who was buying the beer, Dorie trotted off to fill a pitcher with the cheapest piss the place had on tap. As soon as she was gone, the visitor they’d been waiting for slid into the booth next to Ethan.

About time you showed, motherfucker, said Shawn. I was startin’ to think you went home for the summer and we were gonna have to settle for gettin’ drunk tonight.

Heaven forbid, said Eddie, widening his eyes and shuddering in mock horror. He pulled a rolled-up baggie from his jacket pocket, which he passed to Ethan under the table.

Ethan handed two folded bills back, putting the baggie into his own pocket. He ran a hand through his shaggy, glossy black hair in a show of casualness. He wondered why they bothered with the under-the-table charade; everyone in the bar knew what it meant when Eddie sat down at your table.

After Eddie had moved on to another booth, Ethan and Shawn hurried through the rest of their beer. They left Dorie a three-dollar tip and headed out.

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Dude, you’re outta Doritos, Shawn called from Ethan’s small open-air kitchen two hours later.

That’s ‘cause you ate ‘em all, jackass, Ethan shouted back through a mouthful of cold chicken wing. There’s Pop Tarts in the cabinet over the blender. Grab those.

I don’t want fuckin’ Pop Tarts, Shawn whined. I want fuckin’ Doritos. The jalapeno ones.

Well, we don’t have any.

Let’s go get some, then.

The store’s all the way over the bridge, and it’s like eighty five degrees outside, Ethan said. That’s way too far just so you can have some Doritos. Grab the Pop Tarts and get in here, so we can start the movie. I heard you get to see Megan Fox’s tits in this.

Shawn slammed the cabinet door and returned to the living room. He slumped down on the floor beside Ethan, slamming the little box down in front of him. Shawn’s ginger curls and pale, freckled face made him look much younger than his twenty years; the pouting over the snack selection further reduced him from little boy to spoiled brat.

You done with your tantrum? Ethan asked, brandishing the remote control. I already put the DVD in.

I’m not havin’ a tantrum, Shawn said, struggling with the foil bag to get to the toaster pastries inside. "Who buys fucking blueberry Pop Tarts?"

"Will you shut up about