The child's name is Melodie.Trespass
Long ago, before Melodie was born, her pretty mother had had a stab at composing music.
Melodie is ten years old and she's trying to eat a sandwich. She prises apart the two halves of the sandwich and stares at the wet, pink ham inside, and at the repulsive grey-green shimmer on its surface. All around her, in the dry grass and in the parched trees, crickets and grasshoppers are making that sound they make, not with their voices (Melodie has been told that they have no voices) but with their bodies, letting one part vibrate against another part. In this place, thinks Melodie, everything is alive and fluttering and going from one place to another place, and she dreads to see one of these insects arrive suddenly on her sandwich or on her leg or to start to tangle its limbs in her hair.
by Rose Tremain
Trespass is my current audiobook and, after this opening scene, Melodie has not appeared again. I have been listening while walking on the treadmill (I hope to be walking outside again soon) and it's definitely holding my interest. The old house in the south of France, full of family secrets and, now, with a mysterious disappearance, has kept me on the treadmill a few minutes longer each day. Does the opening paragraph appeal to you?
Every Tuesday, Diane at Bibliophile by the Sea posts the opening paragraph (sometime two) of a book she decided to read based on the opening paragraph(s). Feel free to grab the banner and play along.