A great thunderstorm of sound gushed from the walls. Music bombarded him at such an immense volume that his bomes were almost shaken from their tendons; he felt his jaw vibrate, his eyes wobbly in his head. He was a victim of concussion. When it was all over he felt like a man who had been thrown from a cliff, whirled in a centrifuge, and spat out over a waterfall that fell and fell into emptiness and emptiness and never-quite-touched-bottom-never-quite-no not quite-touched-bottom...and you fell so fast you didn't touch the sides either...never...quite...touched...anything.
The thunder faded. The music died.
I like this passage from the book because it uses so much description I can see what's happening. the author does this a lot and I think it's his style because almost every passage I read is description. If they wanted to make a movie just tell someone read the book, you can already see what is going on. He has some vocabulary in here that I had to look up because I wasn't sure what it meant, but It helps explain better what's going on. Also the way he described the aftershock of the concussion was amazing. I've never had a concussion but if I did I hope it isn't how he seemed to explain it because it sounds awful. But I find it cool that he went off into explaining the whole concussion and then drew all his ideas back together but bringing in the thunder storm again.
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