“And then some guy wandering as lost as you would all of a sudden be right before your eyes, his face bigger and clearer than you ever saw a man’s face before in your life. Your eyes were working so hard to see in that fog that when something did come in sight every detail was ten times as clear as usual, so clear that you both had to look away. When a man showed up, you didn’t want to look at his face and he didn’t want to look at yours, because it’s painful to see somebody so clear that it’s like looking inside him, but then neither did you want to look away and lose him completely.” (figure the book out yourselves, motherfuckers.)
I sterilised those memories, and kept them running out in fields like cows high on estrogen shots.
I took one sharp glimpse at you, and shot myself dead.
The entertainers announced that "that was the end of Act 1 of a Tragic Act" and took turns to tap my cold head with the tip of their candy canes.
It was crazy beautiful, really. And, yes. Almost memorable.
Labels: novel, quote
