In the sky we had rediscovered the moving principle of any work of art: the light, and the motion of color.
They stood there for a while, not saying anything. Then Eli said: 'Do you want to come in?' Oskar didn't reply. Eli pulled on her T-shirt, lifted her hands, let them fall. 'I'm never going to hurt you. ' 'I know that. ' 'What are you thinking about?' 'That T-shirt. Is it from the trash room?' '. . . yes. ' 'Have you washed it?' Eli didn't answer. 'You're a little gross, you know that?' 'I can change, if you like. ' 'Good. Do that.