Commentary on "The Kite Runner" by Khaled Hosseini

Chapter 1December 2001I became what I am today at the age of twelve, on a frigid, overcast day in the winter of 1975. I remember the precise moment, crouching behind a crumbling mud wall, peeking into the lane close the frozen creek. That was a long time ago, exactly it?s wrong what they say about the one-time(prenominal), about how you substructure bury it. I k straightway it is wrong because I well-educated that the past claws its way out. Looking back now, I recognise I have been peeking into that deserted alley for the go bad cardinal years. One day last summer, my fri give the axe Rahim khan called from Pakistan. He asked me to come see me. Standing in the kitchen with the manslayer to my ear, I knew it wasn?t just Rahim Khan on the line. It was my absolute past; all my sins that I have not atoned for. later I hung up, I went for a walk along Spreckels Lake on the northerly edge of Golden Gate Park. The early-afternoon sun sparkled on the piss where dozens of min iature boats sailed, propelled by a frizzly breeze. and so I glanced up and saw a parallel of kites, carmine with long blue tails, soaring in the sky.

They danced laid-back to a higher place the trees on the west end of the park, over the windmills, floating billet by side deal a pair of eyeball looking down in San Francisco, the city I now call home. And suddenly Hassan?s voice whispered in my head: For you, a gram times over. Hassan, the hare-lipped kite runner. I run on a park bench near a willow tree. I thought about something Rahim Khan said just beforehand he hung up, almost as an after thought. There is a way to be skillful again. I looked up! at those... If you want to get a full essay, order it on our website: BestEssayCheap.com

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