Sonntag, 25. August 2013

American Gods

"The old woman in the red sari stepped into the firelight. On her forehead was a small dark-blue jewel. [...]

'I was old Kalighat before you were dreamed of, you foolish man.[...].'

Again, a moment of double-vision: Shadow saw the old woman her dark face pinched with age and disapproval, but behind her he saw something huge, a naked woman with skin as black as a new leather jacket, and lips and tongue the bright red of arterial blood. Around her neck were skulls, and her many hands held knives, and swords and severed heads. [...]

'We've lived in peace in this country for a long time. Some of us do better than others, I agree. I do well. Back in India, there is an incarnation of me who does much better, but so be it. [...] They worshipped the railroads here, only the blink of an eye ago. And now the iron gods are as forgotten as the emerald hunters...'"

Gaiman, Neil: "American Gods", London 2001, S. 148f.

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