Page 487 - The Book Thief

Waywardly, she began to walk and then run down Munich Street, to haul in the
last steps of Max Vandenburg.

Liesel, what are you doing?!

She escaped the grip of Rudys words and ignored the watching people at her
side. Most of them were mute. Statues with beating hearts. Perhaps bystanders in
the latter stages of a marathon. Liesel cried out again and was not heard. Hair
was in her eyes. Please, Max!

After perhaps thirty meters, just as a soldier turned around, the girl was felled.
Hands were clamped upon her from behind and the boy next door brought her
down. He forced her knees to the road and suffered the penalty. He collected her
punches as if they were presents. Her bony hands and elbows were accepted with
nothing but a few short moans. He accumulated the loud, clumsy specks of
saliva and tears as if they were lovely to his face, and more important, he was

able to hold her down.

On Munich Street, a boy and girl were entwined.

They were twisted and comfortless on the road.

Together, they watched the humans disappear. They watched them dissolve, like
moving tablets in the humid air.