Den ukentlige utfordringen hos Flukten fra virkeligheten: del ett par setninger fra en bok du leser nå på bloggen din.
Dagens smakebit er en introduksjon til en engel med en identitetskrise, og kommer fra den skjønne The Unfinished Angel av Sharon Creech, s. 2-3:
Me, I am an angel. I am supposed to be having all the words in all the languages, but I am not. Many are missing. I am also not having a special assignment. I think I did not get all the training.
What is my mission? I think I should have been told. I have been lolling around in the stone tower of Casa Rosa, waiting to find out. I am free to come and go in the mountain villages, free to float along the promenade of the lake, free to swish up through the Alps to mountain huts, free to spend days and nights floating and swishing. This floating and swishing I like.
It's true I have my hands full from time to time with Signora Divino and her grandson, Vinny, neither of them the slightest bit "divino" these days: cranky and bad-tempered, raining soot on everyone else's head. Signora Divino, she snip-snip gossips and causes trouble between the other peoples, and her grandson, Vinny, with the shaggy hair is causing the mischief and blaming the other boys, and he listens to no one, no one, you hear me? No one. I pinch him sometimes.
But is that my purpose? Solely to look after the Divinos and keep them from heaping misery on the other people types and giving them a pinch from time to time? I don't think so.