Men visst är det lite en sorg med att alla bryter upp ur barndomens idyll.
But they were connected, and this connection was plain as a fence, it was between us and Uncle Benny, us and the Flats Road, it would stay between us and anything. It was the same as in the winter, sometimes, when they would deal out two hands of cards and sit down at the kitchen table, and play, waiting for the ten o'clock news, having sent us to bed upstairs. And upstairs seemed miles above them, dark and full of the noise of the wind. Up there you discovered what you never remembered down in the kitchen - that we were in a house as small and shut-up as any boat is on the sea, in the middle of a tide of howling weather. They seemed to be talking, playing cards, a long way away in a tiny spot of light, irrelevantly; yet this thought of them, prosaic as a hiccough, familiar as breath, was what held me, what winked at me from the bottom of the well as I fell into sleep.I näst sista kapitlet (Baptizing) där Del faller för en baptist som i en stark scen försöker 'döpa' henne i älven och just i det ögonblicket, när han håller hennes huvud under vatten och hon vägrar ge sig och kämpar för att inte drunkna så hittar hon sin inre styrka igen efter som hon säger det ha varit 'confused by love'
Nu tror jag att jag ska läsa en av hennes novell-samlingar. Kanske 'Runaway' som jag har på min kindle. Jag ger i alla fall den här boken 4 starka stjärnor. ****
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