Sculptor's Daughter Read Online Free PDF

But now it had to cross the road.
    One car after another went past and sometimes a tram and the longer I waited the more difficult it was to roll the stone out into the road.
    In the end I began to feel weak at the knees and then I knew that soon it would be too late, in a few seconds it would be too late, so I let it fall into the gutter and began rolling very quickly and without looking up. I kept my nose just above the top of the stone so that the room I had hidden us in would be as tiny as possible and I heard very clearly how all the cars stopped and were angry but I drew a line between them and me and just went on rollingand rolling. You can close your mind to things if something is important enough. It works very well. You make yourself very small, shut your eyes tight and say a big word over and over again until you’re safe.
    When I got to the tram-lines I felt tired so I lay across the stone and held it tight. But the tram just rang and rang its bell so I had to start rolling again but now I wasn’t scared any longer, just angry and that felt much better. Anyway, the stone and I had such a tiny room for ourselves that it didn’t matter a bit who shouted at us or what they shouted. We felt terribly strong. We had no trouble in getting onto the pavement again and we continued up the slope to Wharf Road, leaving behind us a narrow trail of silver. From time to time we stopped to rest together and then we went on again.
    We came to the entrance of our house and got the door open. But then there were the stairs. You could manage by resting on your knees and taking a firm grip with both hands and waiting till you got your balance. Then you tightened your stomach and held your breath and pressed your wrists against your knees. Then quickly up and over the edge and you let your stomach go again and listened and waited but the staircase was quite empty. And then the same thing all over again.
    When the stairs narrowed and turned a corner we had to move over to the wall side. We went on climbing slowly but no one came. Then I lay on topof the stone again and got my breath and looked at the silver, silver worth millions and only four floors more and we would be there.
    It happened when we got to the fourth floor. My hand slipped inside my mittens, I fell flat on my face and lay quite still and listened to the terrible noise of the stone falling. The noise got louder and louder, a noise like Crash, Crunch, Crack all rolled into one, until the stone hit the Nieminens’ door with a dull thud like doomsday.
    It was the end of the world, and I covered my eyes with my mittens. Nothing happened. The echoes resounded up and down the stairs but nothing happened. No angry people opened their doors. Perhaps they were lying in wait inside.
    I crept down on my hands and knees. Every step had a little semicircle bitten out of it. Further down they became big semicircles and the pieces lay everywhere and stared back at me. I rolled the stone away from the Nieminens’ door and started all over again. We climbed up steadily and without looking at the chipped steps. We got past the place where things had gone wrong and took a rest in front of the balcony door. It’s a dark-brown door and has tiny square panes of glass.
    Then I heard the outside door downstairs open and shut and somebody coming up the stairs. He climbed up and up with very slow steps. I crept forward to the banisters and looked down. I could see right to the bottom, a long narrow rectangle closed in by the banisters all the way down, and up the banisters came a great big hand, round and round and nearer and nearer. There was a mark in the middle of it so I knew it was the tattooed hand of the caretaker who was probably on his way up to the attic.

    I opened the door to the balcony as quietly as I could and began to roll the stone over the threshold. The threshold was high. I rolled without thinking, I was very scared and couldn’t get a good grasp and