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448 pages, Paperback
First published September 27, 2005
I am eating an egg. He revises it.
I am eating my whole life.
Rain begins to fall, all at once, steadily, a wet broom sweeping out the sky. Fresh air billows into the cell. The rain has a mantra: egg, egg, egg, egg, egg.
With a fleck of yellow yolk stuck on his lower lip, Teza makes up a stupid joke.
What comes first, the chicken or the egg?
The political prisoner, of course.
He swallows as slowly as it's possible to swallow without choking. He revises it.
What comes first, the chicken or the egg?
The boy. Free El Salvador, who brought the political prisoner an egg from a bowl of mohinga.
As long as there is paper, people will write, secretly, in small rooms, in the hidden chambers of their minds, just as people whisper the words they're forbidden to speak aloud.