And then the sandy scrubland was domesticated by farm life. Overgrazed fields were dotted with cows, their withers shriveled and papery, their lowing desperate. An emptiness settled in the farmyards. Once Glinda saw a farm woman standing on her doorstep, hands sunk deep in apron pockets, face lined with grief and rage at the useless sky. The woman watched the carriage pass, and her face showed a yearning to be on it, to be dead, to be anywhere else other than on this carcass of a property.
- From Wicked by Gregory Maguire
2 comments:
A good book, with many such inspiringly well written passages.
Wow, wonderful passage. I can't believe I haven't read this book. The only Maguire I've attempted is Confessions of an Ugly Stepsister. I have Lost around here somewhere.
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