Susie är en tonåring, med ovanliga omständigheter. Hon är död

Jag ska övertyga alla er som inte läst flickan ifrån ovan, att göra det...Det är inte världens mest välskrivna bok, men det är en bok som berör alla som läser den, med underbara citat. Jag har läst den, minst tre gånger...

- Jag uppfyllde majsfältet, jag skickade eldar genom det för att lysa upp det, jag sände skurar av hagel och blommor, men inga varningar fungerade. Jag var förvisad till himlen: jag var en iakttagare. I boken får man följa Susie.
Susie är en tonåring, med ovanliga omständigheter. Hon är död

Lite underbara citat ifrån boken;



" My name is Salmon, like the fish. First name, Susie. I was fourteen years old when I was murdered on December 6th, 1973. I wasn't gone. I was alive in my own perfect world. But in my heart, I knew it wasn't perfect. My murderer still haunted me. My father had the pieces but he couldn't make them fit. I waited for justice but justice did not come."

"Grandma, Susie is in the in between"

"Det hade börjat snöa. Det var den första snön sedan jag dog, och detta förbigick inte pappa. ”Jag hör dig vännen”, sa han till mig, fastän jag inte sa något. ”Vad är det?” Jag fokuserade mycket intensivt på den döda pelargonian mitt i hans blickfång. Jag tänkte att om jag kunde få den att slå ut i blom skulle han få sitt svar. I min himmel blomstrade det. I min himmel virvlade pelargonieblom i drivor som räckte mig till midjan. På jorden hände ingenting".

"Inside the snow globe on my father's desk, there was a penguin wearing a red-and-white-striped scarf. When I was little my father used to pull me into his lap and reach for the snow globe. He would turn it over, letting all the snow collect on the top, then quickly invert it. The two of us watched the snow fall gently around the penguin. The penguin was alone in there, I thought, and I worried for him. When I told my father this, he said, "Don't worry, Susie; he has a nice life. He's trapped in a perfect world."

“When the dead are done with the living, the living can go on to other things,“ Franny said. “What about the dead?“ I asked. “Where do we go?”

“I had rescued the moment by using my camera and in that way had found how to stop time and hold it. No one could take that image away from me because I owned it.”

“Sometimes you cry, Susie, even when someone you love has been gone a long time.”

“These were the lovely bones that had grown around my absence: the connections - sometimes tenuous, sometimes made at great cost, but often magnificent - that happened after I was gone. And I began to see things in a way that let me hold the world without me in it. The events that my death wrought were merely the bones of a body that would become whole at some unpredictable time in the future. The price of what I came to see as this miraculous body had been my life.”