The only clue left behind is the name of her estranged father. The protagonist is abandoned, afraid and powerless, by her own mother at age sixteen. His blood, though, was warm, his fingers tasty, and he reminded her of a sloppy joe. At any rate – sys the protagonist – he stank of rotten eggs and didn’t brush his teeth. This won’t save him from his fatal end: instead of sex, he ends up lifeless in his sleeping tent. The baby sitter’s first boyfriend at camp collects exuvia, the remains of a bug moulting, and nibbles on them as if they were candy. When the girl’s mother returns, all she finds is a heap of bones, picked clean, on the living room floor. «I had my teeth but I was too small to swallow the bones». There’s a fair-haired baby sitter singing a lullaby to her ward, a girl, and gently strokes her head. Alas, I did understand it, after all! I just couldn’t accept that’s how the story started. Is it possible I can’t understand what I’m reading? I tried again. I stopped at page two and wondered just how rusty my English is. I opened Bones & All– Camille DeAngelis‘ book – and started reading.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |