Jag läser nu en mycket spännande bok, American dirt, av Jeanine Cummins
Jag har länkat titeln till förlaget där du kan läsa mer.
Utdrag sid. 73
“They sit in the last row, near the wall, and Lydia stows their backpacks under their folding chairs. She covers her face with her hands and instructs Luca to do the same, but it`s not veneration. It´s only for concealment, in case any of Los Jardineros are Christians, in case they traffick drugs on a Monday, stab people on a thursday, and then come here seeking forgiveness on a Sunday. It doesn´t seem more outlandisch than anything else that´s happened.”
“But now, after more than four years of talking beautifully in two languages, Luca´s voice retreats, and the erswhile silence returns. Lydia sees it happening, and there´s nothing she can do to prevent it. It settles over him lightly at first, but soon, like a shellac, it hardens, By Wednesday morning, his muteness is pronounced. He responds to direct questions only with his face, his body. He perfects, once again, the art of the blank stare, and Lydia feels inside her some last, clinging boulder of sanity slipping”