“The last time I saw her was red. The sky was like soup, boiling and stirring. In some places, it was burned. There were black crumbs, and pepper, streaked across the redness.”

“Coppers and purples, and reds and golds, browns and blacks streaked across the earth violently, and sweeping up and over, a kaleidoscope of dirt and rock that challenges even the most jaded of hearts to not fall under her spell.”

“The tip of the burning red sun kissed the sky in the distance as it slowly sank like molasses into another time, its light pooling ahead, a deep, thick red that saturated the dark majestic hues of the night.”

“As she stared at them, Waringa noted that their skins were indeed red, like that of pigs or like the skin of a black person who has been scalded with boiling water or who has burned himself with acid creams. Even the hair in their arms and necks stood out stiff and straight like the bristle of an aging hog.”

“The same chemicals were used in the cooking as were used on the composition of her own being: only those which caused the most violent reaction, contradiction, and teasing, the refusal to answer questions but the love of putting them, and all the strong spices of human relationship which bore a relation to black pepper, paprika, soybean sauce, ketchup and red peppers.”

“Henry wondered not for the first time if her blood ran red or black.”