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The City of Dead.

A vegetable vendor was weighing a cabbage on a scales and put it in a basket dangling on a string a girl lowered from a balcony. The girl was identical with the one in my village who had gone made for love and killed herself. The vegetable vender raised her face: she was my grandmother.

I thought:
"You reach a moment in life when, among the people you have known, the dead out number the living."

--Italo Calvino, Invisible Cities.

Comments

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bodhichitta0
Jul. 26th, 2004 11:19 am (UTC)
Love that.
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