Fake As Its Namesake

by Dan Crosby

About the Author: Dan Crosby has published short fiction in many of Canada's leading literary journals, including The Fiddlehead, Event, The Windsor Review, Carousel, Scrivener, and Green's Magazine. Most recently he has had his work accepted by circa and The Blue Lake Review in the U.S.

Excerpt

“Well, do you see what I mean?” Eleanor asked, impatiently. She had been pacing up and down the room for the last hour.

Felix, sitting in the big green armchair where the light was good, glanced over the top of the book.

“I haven’t finished reading it yet,” he replied.

Eleanor was exasperated.

“You were on the last page five minutes ago,” she pointed out. “I saw you.”

“I had skipped ahead. Now I’m wondering who this Col. Nesmith is—I don’t remember him at all. I’m re-reading …”

“Col. Nesmith?” Eleanor made like she was strangling Felix. “Who cares about Col. Nesmith. He’s just a character. I’m asking you …”

“Well, he’s not just a character, El—according to the detective, he murdered …”

“Yes, yes, he’s the murderer,” Eleanor interrupted. “Yes, he did it—that was obvious fifty pages ago—but who cares?” Eleanor knew she sounded hysterical, and tried to calm herself down. “I’m saying that Lily Fontaine didn’t write this book. Everything is different about it—the whole style is fundamentally different from everything else she’s ever written. Do you see what I mean? There’s something about the writing that’s … I don’t know, almost distasteful. It’s like drinking milk gone bad or eating a bruised apple.”

Story Comments