For herself she knew that there would be no more chances. There was only Ayemenem now. A front verandah and a back verandah. A hot river and a pickle factory. And in the background, the constant, high, whining mewl of local disapproval.
@ejnro Faller det i smak, tipper jeg det blir noen romaner av han det neste året, men jeg begynner på begynnelsen :)













