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She looked at her watch; she didn't have much time. Luckily they were playing a tango. She wheeled rapidly towards the canned soup section, trying to shake the glaze out of her eyes. It was dangerous to stay in the supermarket too long. One of these days it would get her.
Margaret Atwood, The Edible Woman, McClelland & Stewart Ltd., Toronto, Montreal, 1969, p.174-175.
TIME: 1960's
PLACE: Toronto
She was watching her own hands and the peeler and the curl of crisp orange skin. She became aware of the carrot. It's a root, she thought, it grows in the ground and sends up leaves. Then They come along and dig it up, maybe it even makes a sound, a scream too low for us to hear, but it doesn't die right away, it keeps on living, right now it's still alive...
Margaret Atwood, The Edible Woman, McClelland & Stewart Ltd., Toronto, Montreal, 1969, p.178.
TIME: 1960's
PLACE: Toronto
CIRCUMSTANCE: imaginary sound while peeling a carrot
She reached the empty lobby. Although there was no one following her, she thought she could hear a sound; it was the thin sound glass would make, icy as the tinkle of a chandelier, it was the high electric vibration of this glittering space...
Margaret Atwood, The Edible Woman, McClelland & Stewart Ltd., Toronto, Montreal, 1969, p. 245.
TIME: 1960's
PLACE: Toronto
CIRCUMSTANCE: neon lights in the lobby of an apartment building.
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