By Tom Piccirilli
This lyrical story of evil, loss, and redemption is a gorgeous addition to the Southern gothic culture of Flannery O’Connor and Harry Crews.
A Choir of ailing Children is the startling tale of country Come, a decaying, swamp backwater that attracts the misplaced, ill-fated, and damned.
Since his mother’s disappearance and his father’s suicide, Thomas has cared for his 3 brothers—conjoined triplets with separate our bodies yet one shared brain—and the town’s in simple terms undefined, the Mill.
Because of his family’s prominence, Thomas is feared and revered by means of the superstitious swamp people. Granny witches solid hexes whereas Thomas’s formative years sweetheart drifts via his practical a vengeful ghost and his ally, a reverend struggling with the facility of tongues, is conquer with this curse as he attempts to warn of imminent threat. All Thomas learns is that “the carnival is coming.”
Torn through accountability and rage, Thomas needs to face his tormented previous in addition to the mysterious forces surging towards the city he loves and despises.
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Extra info for A Choir of Ill Children
Each cut, he saw, was some portion of human anatomy … He looked away from that. He did not, at this moment, want to think about the nature of the mind which he had entered, the sort of ugly dreams and visions it contained. In the kitchen, he found the pantry door, opened it, went through and carefully went down the cellar steps. The walls here were of natural rock, and odd, dark creatures clung to the wall, staring at him with huge, luminous eyes. He was aware that these creatures knew very little about the house upstairs and that the people up there knew absolutely nothing about the demons below them.
He doesn't like films and books, as you and I might. " "You've scared me," Ti said. He was being perfectly honest. " "Good," the gentleman said, smiling and rocking a little on his heels. Baker held the projectile gun, slapping it from one palm to another, grinning. Timothy was not certain whether the man had been born with a low IQ and little interest in anything but violence, or whether the Brethren had taken a healthy man and done this to him. Such things were possible. The military had experimented with brain operations in which a man's interests in life were restricted to obeying authority and conforming to the norm—and killing.
Every piece of the world, from the grass of the raft to the air itself was sensual in touch and smell and taste. Then the women began to change … Their arms stretched into wings, leathery appendages that spread around the raft, blocking out the sunlight. Their lushness gave way to a bony toughness; their beauty rapidly withered into an ugliness that sparked some unspeakable horror in him. Their faces became long, wolflike, their eyes, sunken beneath shelves of bone. Their mouths split wide and were crammed with razor-edged teeth that glittered yellowly.