Thoughts

The words keep coming

Forming sentences and paragraphs

in my mind.

I should have minded the sharp tip

of the knife.

Red trickles and mixes with the words.

Maybe I could write some lines

out of this.

My finger throbs.

And the words get lost somewhere,

between the band-aid and slab of meat.

Dinner would be late.

 

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From Sand And Ash

When you accidentally find another book that takes you back to places and events that you never get tired of reading about, it is truly a joy to read it.

At first, it was the cover of the book that I noticed. I have always loved reading about World War II. Yes, historical novels fascinate me. And since Amy Harmon is a new author in my list, I was not expecting that I will enjoy this book.

From Sand  And Ash, a touching, beautiful and heart-wrenching story of an Italian Jew and a Catholic priest and their families. The setting was in 1943 at the height of WWII in war-torn Italy. They were childhood friends, raised like family, of different faith and religion. The male protagonist Angelo, chose to become a priest while Eva grew up in the company of Angelo’s grandparents. The author says most of the events that happened in the book were factual. Italy’s Jews were hidden by members of the Catholic clergy. One thing that I’ve always read about in similar stories were how the Jews were killed in concentration camps in Poland and Germany. Although Italy was mentioned, it was never this detailed.

If you happen to love such stories with a little romance in between, you would enjoy reading this. It was a beautiful read from start to finish. A story of faith, love and war, a mesmerizing combination that grips you till the end.

I am giving this five-stars on Goodreads, one of the best books I read this year so far. I never include summaries when I review a book, it’s for you to find out if you are interested to read it.  I jotted down some worth-reading quotes though.

“Fear is strange. It settles on chests and seeps through skin, through layers of tissue, muscle, and bone and collects in a soul-sized black hole, sucking the joy out of life, the pleasure, the beauty. But not the hope. Somehow, the hope is the only thing resistant to the fear, and it is that hope that makes the next breath possible, the next step, the next tiny act of rebellion, even if that rebellion is simply staying alive.”

“Life is like a long note; it persists without variance, without wavering. There is no cessation in sound or pause in tempo. It continues on, and we must master it or it will master us.”

“Time doesn’t stop or give warning. It simply ticks along, marking time, ignoring humanity.” 

Done with 26% of my book challenge this year.

 

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