Luckier

图片取自 EarlyWord

　　The next morning, as I walked down the street to the corner where the school bus stopped, I pictured Birju the way I had left him, in his quiet, dim room, snoring on his back, his mouth open. I saw my mother, too. She was in the laundry room, stuffing the washing machine with the sheets and pillowcases from last night. Not only was I luckier than my brother, but I was also more fortunate than my mother. I wanted to shriek. While a part of me was glad I wasn't like my brother, no part of me wished to be more fortune than my mother. To be luckier than her was to be different from her, it was to be apart from her, it was to have a life that would take me away from her.

Family Life, P133
Akhil Sharma
ISBN 978-0-393-06005-8

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