Читать книгу Guabancex - Celia A Sorhaindo - Страница 10

[ 5 ] carrying stolen mud-crusted sofas, sinks, spirits, through debris to homes miraculously still standing? To understand then the tragic improvised or organised bacchanal trashing of schools and stores? Who could explain anything then? Understand or explain anything now! When she was able, my grandmother told me about after the hurricane. Months later I flew home and stood stone still in the ruin of her home, alone. I thought fear faith, had been uncovered, illuminated, as I watched a mass of untethered particles air-floating in the beam of my head lamp, from floor all the way above my head to the star spored heavens.