Aimée Dabekaussen’s Reviews > Song of Solomon > Status Update

Dit verhaal is echt wauw.

She was the third beer. Not the first one, which the throat receives with almost tearful gratitude; nor the second, that confirms and extends the pleasure of the first. But the third, the one you drink because it's there, because it can't hurt, and because what difference does it make?

He was momentarily confused

You think dark is just one color, but it ain't. There's five or six kinds of black. Some silky, some woolly. Some just empty. Some like fingers. And it don't stay still. It moves and changes from one kind of black to another. (...) Well, night black is the same way. May as well be a rainbow.