More on this book
Community
Kindle Notes & Highlights
She thought that might have been joy, or something like it. Something that feels sad as much as it feels like love.
What was the worth of happiness that left behind a crater thrice the size of its impact.
How quickly did the belly of despair turn itself over into hope, the give of the skin of overripe fruit.
She had never touched another person in want. She had now. She had gulped at the cup of it. Her hands were no longer the same; her belly, her cunt. At Eva’s mercy, trapped behind the cage of her teeth, she had grown a new shape.
She had held a pear in her hand and she had eaten it skin and all. She had eaten the stem and she had eaten its seeds and she had eaten its core, and the hunger still sat in her like an open maw. She thought: I can hold you and find that I still miss your body. She thought: I can listen to you speak and still miss the sound of your voice.
That’s what happens when people die. They take themselves with them and you never ever find out anything new about them ever.
could. I think she’d crawl herself inside of me if she thought that’s where she’d find something that I’ve kept hidden from her. God help me.
She wondered whether her uncle saw anything else, other than the hair. She felt he must. She felt she was not who she once was. She felt that this should be visible from a great distance.
She had made the kitchen a lovely place. Isabel could cry at it: at how a room could be made, and left behind, and turn terrible by way of absence. How a space could miss a person.
She was a body needing to be held but Isabel was not allowed to hold her.
She knew Eva was there, knew she had approached. She would never not know. She would never leave a room again and not leave half of her behind.
