When Ben and his younger brother wake up on a sunny October day, their mother is dead. Ben talks about the following days, the shock, how this death feels and how each member of his family reacts to it in a different way. He remembers his mother’s legendary rages or how she loved to climb up chestnut trees – and finds comfort in a feather floating out of the sky.
A story of the unimaginable, of great intensity and closeness, full of consolation and confidence.
»Death is like the beat of a wing, Ma once said. She loved sayings like that. Like the beat of a wing of a huge, black bird that flies by and casts its shadow briefly on the one who happens to be sitting below – and maybe a bit longer on those who are nearby, and then it is suddenly all over. «