 Wysłany: Pon 16:54, 14 Lut 2011 Temat postu: I want my Mattie |
|
| r be here to be happy with glimmer in her mind . . . and felt
her push it away. Over our heads something huge crashed down on the roofthe lights flickered and Ki began to weep again. 'Nohoney' I saidand began to walk with her. 'NohoneynoKidon't. Don'thoneydon't.' 'I want my mommy mbt fora shoes On the Makaloa Mat LondonJack Published bbaafiai! I want my Mattie gucci handbags Sexually or asexually!' I walked her the way I think you're supposed to walk babies who have colic. She understood too much for a three-year-oldand her suffering was consequently more terrible than any three-year-old should have to bear. So I held her in my arms and walked herher shorts damp with urine and rainwater under my handsher arms fever-hot around my neckher cheeks slathered with snot and tearsher hair a soaked clump from our brief dash through the downpourher breath acetoneher toy a strangulated black clump that sent dirty water trickling over her knuckles. I walked her. Back and forth we went through Sara's living roomback and forth through dim light thrown by the overhead and one lamp. Generator light is never quite steadynever quite still �� it seems to breathe and sigh. Back and forth through the ceaseless low chiming of Bunter's belllike music from that world we sometimes touch but never really see. Back and forth beneath the so |
|
