Friday, February 3, 2012

"My Heart Remembers" by Kim Vogel Sawyer

Kindle edition here.
  • "bits and snatches from the past hours cluttered Maelle's  mind in a confusing mosaic"
  • " cry the hurt  away"
  • "Maelle awakened Christmas morning with a dream hovering on the fringes of her mind."
  • "Traveling alone often brought waves of melancholy, but on this particular morning she felt far from dismal. Who could be gloomy on such a glorious day? Overhead, fluffy clouds floated  lazily in a brilliant blue sky. The early spring rain had ignited  an abundance of fresh scents as well as brought a touch of green  to the landscape. If she squinted she could make out tiny buds  on the tips of bare trees. It wouldn't be long before wild flowers  would be making an appearance."
  • "How many photographs had she  taken of children hiding their sad, hopeless situation behind  a forced smile?"
  • "Suddenly, from the bushes along the riverbank, a bird burst  into song. Maelle's heart gave a leap at the happy notes of praise.  She pushed the negative images away. She didn't want to dwell  on anything gloomy today. Not on this gorgeous spring day  with the beautiful Mississippi guiding her through the state  that represented homecoming. Today she would smile and sing  and laugh."
  • "Parents, this is what you have  to ask yourself. Have you taught your children to respect you?  Do they understand being part of a family means contributing  to the family, and that means chores? If so, no child is going to point to a law written up by politicians and use it as a weapon  against his parents."
  • "true-children all  over the country are working in jobs that should be held by  grown-ups. I know. I've seen it."
  • "witnessed-small  children standing long hours on a cold, damp floor shelling  oysters for pennies a bucket, twelve-year-old boys with permanent   humps in their backs from leaning over breaker boxes to  pick out the lumps of slate that trundled down the chutes with  the coal, little girls with missing fingers because their tiny hands  got caught in the workings of a mill treadle....
    "And then, of course, there are those newsboys who offer  their papers on the street corners every day, who go home to a  box or an alley corner with no supper in their bellies, to wake  before dawn the next morning and begin it all again." Maelle  held her audience spellbound. Finally she released a sigh, raising  her shoulders in a gesture of futility. "They need your help."
  • "Lying awake gave her too much  time to think. And thinking always led to sadness. Which led  to anger."
  • "Rolling onto her side, she curled her body into a ball and  pinched her eyes closed. The nighttime noises continued, and  she pressed the now-familiar sounds to the back of her mind,  allowing them to become a dissonant lullaby. Slowly drowsiness  took hold, easing her closer to dreamland. But hovering on the  fringes of consciousness were the names"
  • "She drew her finger through the cool water in the bowl, creating   swirls in the soap residue. Her imagination took flight, and she envisioned clouds, then creamed coffee, and a man's curling  white beard."
  • "Closing her eyes, she relished the feel of her fingers  in her hair. The auburn locks hadn't felt a scissors' blades in more  than a dozen years. If she had her way, they never would."
  • "Buttery sunlight and a  sweet-scented breeze poured through the narrow gap."
  • "A flutter of nervousness diminished the feeling of relief. His gaze was a bit too attentive for comfort."
  • "Hope ... A beautiful word."
  • "cool breeze that smelled of rain curled around the  building, filling Matt's nostrils. The clean, fresh scent seemed  to awaken something inside of him."
To be continued . . .

No comments:

Post a Comment