Mimi

“But I began then to think of time as having a shape, something you could see, like a series of liquid transparencies, one laid on top of another.”
― Margaret Atwood, Cat's Eye

“She walks towards Karen and Karen feels a cool wind against her skin, and the grandmother holds out both of her knobby old hands, and Karen puts out her own hands and touches her, and her hands feel as if sand is falling over them. There's a smell of milkweed flowers and garden soil. The grandmother keeps on walking; her eyes are light blue, and her cheek comes against Karen's, cool grains of dry rice. Then she's like the dots on the comic page, close up, and then she's only a swirl in the air, and then she's gone.”
― Margaret Atwood, The Robber Bride

“The alcohol smell is on my fingers, cold and remote, piercing like a steel pin going in. It smells like white enamel basins. When I look up at the stars in the nighttime, cold and white and sharp, I think they must smell like that.”
― Margaret Atwood, Cat's Eye

“It's evening, one of those gray water-color washes, like liquid dust.”
― Margaret Atwood, Cat's Eye