September 3, 2010

We could hear her feet right above us . Halfway up the staircase to the second floor her steps made no more noise, but it was only thirty seconds later that we heard the wet sound of her body running onto the fence that ran alongside the house.
The wind sounded huffed, once, and then the moist thud jolted us, the sound of a watermelon breaking open, and for that moment everyone remained still and composed, as though listening to an orchestra, heads tilted to allow the years to work and no belief coming in yet. Then Mrs. Lisbon, as though alone, said, "Oh, my God."

The Virgin Suicides by Jeffrey Eugenides

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