She rolled up the window and turned away. She never understood the foreigners’ fascination for her island’s sugarcane fields. To her, those swaying fields looked menacing. Bladelike leaves that cut through the skin, a sticky muddy ground that soils you, pulls you down, suffocates you. No, she did not share their fascination. She was not quite sure where her hate for the fields came either. Maybe it started the day uncle Teddy had picked her early from school and torn her clothes in one of those fields. The mud had been stuck to her since then.
Adam Smith
21/1/2018 10:45:29 pm
At first, the description of the mud is analogous to Uncle Teddy, and then, the mud is unshakeable, like the memory of her abuse. Very deep and poignant.
Fliss Zakaszewska
22/1/2018 02:13:07 pm
Deep and bitter, but poignant. A tough story, lovingly told. Comments are closed.
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"Classic"
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