“A thick shaft of sunlight angled into the room, illuminating the fine dust over its surface like the near-invisible hairs on the children’s skin.” This sentence in the first chapter of The Forrests demonstrates the novel’s greatest strength: the sensuous world Emily Perkins creates. Her fine attention to detail amplifies the ordinary moment: a sister’s “touch like feathers,” a pool “the temperature of blood,” “water dots the size of ladybirds glistening on the sides of his nose.”
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