In the morning she found pieces of a birdchopped and scattered by the fanblood sprayed onto the mosquito net,its body leaving paths on the wallslike red snails that drifted down in lumps.She could imagine the featherswhile she had sleptfalling around herlike slow rain.

About This Quote

About Michael Ondaatje

Michael Ondaatje was a contemporary Canadian novelist and poet. Philip Michael Ondaatje is a Ceylon-born Canadian poet, fiction writer and essayist. Read more on Wikipedia →

More quotes by Michael Ondaatje

Related Quotes