Mae Quotes in Like a Winding Sheet
Mae looked at the twisted sheet and giggled. “Looks like a winding sheet,” she said. “A shroud—” Laughter tangled with her words and she had to pause for a moment before she could continue. “You look like a huckleberry—in a winding sheet—”
He had to talk persuasively, urging her gently, and it took time. But he couldn’t bring himself to talk to her roughly or threaten to strike her like a lot of men might have done. He wasn’t made that way.
“Aw, come on and eat,” she said. There was a coaxing note in her voice. “You’re nothing but an old hungry nigger trying to act tough and—” she paused to giggle and then continued, “You—”
There was the smacking sound of soft flesh being struck by a hard object and it wasn’t until she screamed that he realized he had hit her in the mouth—so hard that the dark red lipstick had blurred and spread over her full lips, reaching up toward the tip of her nose, down toward her chin, out toward her cheeks.
And he groped for a phrase, a word, something to describe what this thing was like that was happening to him and he thought it was like being enmeshed in a winding sheet—that was it—like a winding sheet. And even as the thought formed in his mind, his hands reached for her face again and yet again.
Mae Quotes in Like a Winding Sheet
Mae looked at the twisted sheet and giggled. “Looks like a winding sheet,” she said. “A shroud—” Laughter tangled with her words and she had to pause for a moment before she could continue. “You look like a huckleberry—in a winding sheet—”
He had to talk persuasively, urging her gently, and it took time. But he couldn’t bring himself to talk to her roughly or threaten to strike her like a lot of men might have done. He wasn’t made that way.
“Aw, come on and eat,” she said. There was a coaxing note in her voice. “You’re nothing but an old hungry nigger trying to act tough and—” she paused to giggle and then continued, “You—”
There was the smacking sound of soft flesh being struck by a hard object and it wasn’t until she screamed that he realized he had hit her in the mouth—so hard that the dark red lipstick had blurred and spread over her full lips, reaching up toward the tip of her nose, down toward her chin, out toward her cheeks.
And he groped for a phrase, a word, something to describe what this thing was like that was happening to him and he thought it was like being enmeshed in a winding sheet—that was it—like a winding sheet. And even as the thought formed in his mind, his hands reached for her face again and yet again.
