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242 pages, Hardcover
First published January 1, 2013
The sun was copper-red, a great ball, and it floated down so gently, as if to nudge us into night, to let us take the garments of the dark about us slowly and deliberately, without haste and without fear.
"She is innocent."
"Why, Rra?"
"Because, in general, people are, Mma, unless there is good reason to suspect otherwise. Only in books and films are they not, Mma. In real life it is different, I think."
The tiny white van had been washed by the downpour, and now stood sparkling and resplendent, as if some passing evangelist had chosen to baptize it, had sought to make it without sin. She smiled at the unexpected thought. It was the sort of thing that Mr. J.L.B. Matekoni, with his tendency to speak of cars in human terms, might appreciate. He had once said cars had souls; well, perhaps he was right. Perhaps everything had a soul of sorts, which is what some people still believed--that the world all about us was endowed with life and with the very same spirit we saw within ourselves. It was only now, she thought, when we were finishing with the earth, using it up, that we were beginning to understand how right they were.