What is the world but little pieces of pictures and who can see a whole one?
(p35)
~ ~ ~ ~
Django was craning his neck to see out of the window. 'Are there sharks down there?' he asked.
'All kinds of things,' I said. Such a deep dark blue, the water below us, then a fringe of white surf as Kahului Airport came into view back in 1993. The palm trees were moving a little as if they didn't care one way or the other. It was a dull day and those trees put a jungly smell in my mind.
(p144)
~ ~ ~ ~
I can never get used to the passage of the self through time and space and the passage of time and space through the self. The years in me surged up like acid reflux to mingle with the travel hours I was trying to digest while the miles lay like a lump in my stomach and half-forgotten songs spun in my head...
(p178)
Masterful, all of it.
Graeme
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