Explore "The Fish can Sing" by Halldór Laxness on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Evening. There was autumn in the air, and we could hear the wind buffeting the tombstones and the rain beating down on the tansies. I walked round and round the house, stopping at the turnstile-gate in the rain every now and again to listen for footsteps, as if I were expecting someone; because his parting words to me that morning had been, "Stay at home so that you can be found if you are needed. " But there was no one about – at the most, perhaps, the occasional person hurrying home down to Grímstaaholt; until at last the girl came running up. She stopped outside the turnstile-gate in the rain and called my name. I had had more than a suspicion that things were going to turn out something like this.
"He's not singing! " she said.