Har så flyt med läsandet just nu att för tredje söndagen i rad har jag en ny bok att citera från. Den här gången blir det en del ur min första King bok.
Trisha flipped up the poncho's hood and listened to the drops tap on it, like rain on the roof of a car. She saw the ever-present cloud of bugs dancing in front of her eyes and waved at them with a strengthless hand. Nothing makes them go away and they are always hungry, they fed on my eyelids when i was passed out and they'll feed on my dead body, she thought, and began to cry again.