”Her earliest memory was of wings. Luminous red and blue, yellow and green and orange; a black so real it appeared liquid, edible. They moved above her and the sunlight made them glow as though they were themselves made of light, fragments of another, brighter world falling to earth about her crib. Her tiny hands stretched upwards to grasp them but could not: they were to elusive, too radiant, too much of the air.
Could they ever have been real?”
(inledningen till ”Cleopatra Brimstone”, ur ”Saffron & Brimstone”)
Det är när jag läser inledningar som denna som jag börjar fundera över vilka kroppsdelar jag skulle kunna tänka mig att offra till mörka makter för att kunna skriva lika bra som Elizabeth Hand.