Auður Ava Ólafsdóttir
First Sentence: This is how it appears to me now, as I look back, without perhaps fully adhering to the chronology of events.
Back of the book:
After a day of being dumped – twice – and accidentally killing a goose, the narrator begins to dream of tropical holidays far away from the chaos of her current life. instead, she finds her plans wrecked by her best friend’s deaf-mute son, thrust into her reluctant care. But when a shared lottery ticket nets the two of them over 40 million kroner, she and the boy head off on a road trip across Iceland, taking in cucumber-farming hotels, dead sheep, and any number of her exes desperate for another chance. Blackly comic and uniquely moving, Butterflies in November is an extraordinary, hilarious tale of motherhood, relationships and the legacy of life’s mistakes.
Last Sentence: I unclasp his small fingers, one by one, and finally see his little front milk tooth in the palm of his hand.