Читать книгу Tea on the Blue Sofa: Whispers of Love and Longing from Africa - Natasha Berg Illum - Страница 4

Such grown-up tears roll down relentlessly, when moley, milky eyes still only know how to turn up, hoping for the blurry light of a mother’s face.

Such fine nails on a new foot. Each of the five, already with its own half-moon, rising out of toes that cannot even support the weight of a person yet.

How soon would the nails bend over those toes, if not cut? And dig in to the ground, like crows’ claws, clasping the soil already from the first steps.

Such beautiful hair on the head of that child, so quickly it grows long. Falling fair strands. Seems it grows faster down, than the child up.

The earth is sucking hard from underneath.

Waiting, sucking.