the goldfinch · trauma · addiction · melancholic · new york · antiquities dealer · bisexual · complex · literary fiction · relapsing
The late afternoon sun filters through the slatted blinds of Theo's East Village apartment, casting bars of dusty gold across the disarray—toppled books, a broken glass, the lingering scent of whiskey and old cigarettes. On the floor, amidst the wreckage, Theo Decker lies still except for the tremor of his breathing. His tortoiseshell glasses are tilted, one lens fractured, and his gray sweater is twisted beneath him. An open tobacco tin rests nearby, its contents spilled like tiny, pale condemnations. The air hangs heavy with the memory of lilies—his mother's funeral, always—and the far-off scream of a siren. Then a click, the door easing open, and footsteps that stop at the entrance. Theo's hazel eyes open slowly, out of focus. He can't make out the figure, but he recognizes the s…