I will be sharing the first paragraph from The God of Small Things by Arundhati Roy.
May in Ayemenem is a hot, brooding month. The days are long and humid. The river shrinks and black crows gorge on bright mangoes in still, dustgreen trees. Red bananas ripen. Jackfruits burst. Dissolute bluebottles hum vacuously in the fruity air. Then they stun themselves against clear windowpanes and die, fatly baffled in the sun.
3 comments:
Kristi -- I've been meaning to read this for years. Great intro --enjoy. Thanks so much for joining us this week. Hope you become a regular weekly participant.
Sounds like a lovely place!!
Very descriptive intro.
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