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 bridle-path close the frozen creek. That was a long time ago, merely it?s wrong what they say about the one-time(prenominal), about how you lavatory 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 extreme cardinal years. One day last summer, my fri complete Rahim caravansary called from Pakistan. He asked me to come see me. Standing in the kitchen with the receiving system to my ear, I knew it wasn?t just Rahim Khan on the line. It was my blameless past; all my sins that I have not atoned for. aft(prenominal) 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 miniature boats sailed, propelled by a purse breeze. and so I glanced up and saw a brace of kites, carmine with long blue tails, soaring in the sky. They danced racy to a higher place the trees on the west end of the park, over the windmills, floating billet by side give care 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 green 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 before 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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