Mophead Quotes

There is a sign above the door in the shape of a door key, on it the words KEYS CUT. There’ll be a high smell of creosote, oil, paraffin, lawn treatment stuff. There’ll be brushheads with handles, brushheads without handles, handles by themselves, for sale. What else? Rakes, spades, forks, a garden roller, a wall of stepladders, a tin bath full of bags of compost. Calor gas bottles, saucepans, frying pans, mopheads, charcoal, folding stools made of wood, a plastic bucket of plungers, stacked packs of sandpaper, sacks of sand in a wheelbarrow, metal doormats, axes, hammers, a camping stove or two, hessian carpet mats, stuff for curtains, stuff for curtain rails, stuff for screwing curtain rails to walls and pelmets, pliers, screwdrivers, bulbs, lamps, pails, pegs, laundry baskets. Saws, of all sizes. EVERYTHING FOR THE HOME.

Coconut trees were fireworks that arced into the sky and exploded in green. Pandanus trees, angular and mop-headed, seemed cut from the pages of a Dr. Seuss book. Breadfruit trees cast generous shadows. The lagoon, never more than twenty feet away, fulfilled every postcard cliché of tropical paradise. On the beach, muscular island men were beaching their wooden sailing canoe after a morning on the water, strings sagging with the weight of colorful reef fish.

Buster wore overalls and nothing else. His skin was grimy, littered with ingrown hairs and bursting pustules. His pits were so hairy, it looked like he’d shoved mopheads beneath each of his flapping chicken wing arms.

Here, before the swaying grasses in that moment magnificent, the light catches the mop-headed thatch of sable palms on the spiny little islands sprinkled about. Wide creeks mirror the sun in shimmering rivulets rippling with the tide. In the languid afternoon the light ebbs from the stark horizon and washes back, altering shadows in shades of blue over the seascape and marsh." From Chapter 5