Gao Xingjian is one of the most melodious authors I have read. And sensual, let me add. It's a different kind of stream of conscious narrative. It's not a back and forth in time or space. But it’s a switch between three-four projections of the self. I found this excerpt on the net, but this is not one of my favourites:
The rich, the famous, and the nothing in particular all hurry back because they are getting old. After all, who doesn't love the home of their ancestors? They don't intend to stay, so they walk around looking relaxed, talking and laughing loudly, and effusing fondness and affection for the place. When friends meet they don't just give a nod or a handshake in the meaningless ritual of city people, but rather they shout the person's name or thump him on the back. Hugging is also common, but not for women. By the cement trough where the buses are washed, two young women hold hands as they chat. The women here have lovely voices and you can't help taking a second look.