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“Quando svoltai l'angolo, mi fermai di colpo. Ci avrei scommesso una settimana di stipendio che quel che stavo vedendo non poteva essere vero. Il nostro turbolento, esasperato cane stava adagiato tra le ginocchia di Jenny, il grosso testone posato placidamente sul suo grembo. La coda gli penzolava piatta tra le zampe, la prima volta che non lo vedevo agitarla quando stava toccando uno di noi. Gli occhi erano alzati verso di lei, e guaiva sommessamente. Jenny gli accarezzò la testa diverse volte e poi, senza preavviso, affondò la faccia nel folto del suo collo e cominciò a singhiozzare. Forte, in modo incontrollato.
Restarono così a lungo, con Marley immobile come una statua, Jenny che lo stringeva a sè come un enorme bambolotto. Io mi tenevo in disparte, sentendomi un po' come un intruso che interferiva in quel momento privato, non sapendo esattamente che cosa fare. E poi, senza alzare la faccia, Jenny mosse un braccio verso di me, e io li raggiunsi sul divano e me la strinsi contro. Restammo lì noi tre, nel nostro abbraccio di condiviso dolore.”
― Io & Marley
Restarono così a lungo, con Marley immobile come una statua, Jenny che lo stringeva a sè come un enorme bambolotto. Io mi tenevo in disparte, sentendomi un po' come un intruso che interferiva in quel momento privato, non sapendo esattamente che cosa fare. E poi, senza alzare la faccia, Jenny mosse un braccio verso di me, e io li raggiunsi sul divano e me la strinsi contro. Restammo lì noi tre, nel nostro abbraccio di condiviso dolore.”
― Io & Marley
“It is more important to pave the way for the child to want to know than to put him on a diet of facts he is not ready to assimilate.”
― The Sense of Wonder
― The Sense of Wonder
“We don’t know yet if this girl is going to have sex tonight or not?”
“She will for sure. I can smell the desire. And it is getting stronger as the time is passing.”
― The Pink Cadillac
“She will for sure. I can smell the desire. And it is getting stronger as the time is passing.”
― The Pink Cadillac
“I've forgotten who I had lunch with earlier, and even more important, where.”
― American Psycho
― American Psycho
“I walked past Malison, up Lower Main to Main and across the road. I didn’t need to look to know he was behind me. I entered Royal Wood, went a short way along a path and waited. It was cool and dim beneath the trees. When Malison entered the Wood, I continued eastward.
I wanted to place his body in hallowed ground. He was born a Mearan. The least I could do was send him to Loric. The distance between us closed until he was on my heels. He chose to come, I told myself, as if that lessened the crime I planned. He chose what I have to offer.
We were almost to the cemetery before he asked where we were going. I answered with another question. “Do you like living in the High Lord’s kitchens?”
He, of course, replied, “No.”
“Well, we’re going to a better place.”
When we reached the edge of the Wood, I pushed aside a branch to see the Temple of Loric and Calec’s cottage. No smoke was coming from the chimney, and I assumed the old man was yet abed. His pony was grazing in the field of graves. The sun hid behind a bank of clouds.
Malison moved beside me. “It’s a graveyard.”
“Are you afraid of ghosts?” I asked.
“My father’s a ghost,” he whispered.
I asked if he wanted to learn how to throw a knife. He said, “Yes,” as I knew he would. He untucked his shirt, withdrew the knife he had stolen and gave it to me. It was a thick-bladed, single-edged knife, better suited for dicing celery than slitting a young throat. But it would serve my purpose. That I also knew. I’d spent all night projecting how the morning would unfold and, except for indulging in the tea, it had happened as I had imagined.
Damut kissed her son farewell. Malison followed me of his own free will. Without fear, he placed the instrument of his death into my hand. We were at the appointed place, at the appointed time. The stolen knife was warm from the heat of his body. I had only to use it. Yet I hesitated, and again prayed for Sythene to show me a different path.
“Aren’t you going to show me?” Malison prompted, as if to echo my prayer.”
― Sheever's Journal, Diary of a Poison Master
I wanted to place his body in hallowed ground. He was born a Mearan. The least I could do was send him to Loric. The distance between us closed until he was on my heels. He chose to come, I told myself, as if that lessened the crime I planned. He chose what I have to offer.
We were almost to the cemetery before he asked where we were going. I answered with another question. “Do you like living in the High Lord’s kitchens?”
He, of course, replied, “No.”
“Well, we’re going to a better place.”
When we reached the edge of the Wood, I pushed aside a branch to see the Temple of Loric and Calec’s cottage. No smoke was coming from the chimney, and I assumed the old man was yet abed. His pony was grazing in the field of graves. The sun hid behind a bank of clouds.
Malison moved beside me. “It’s a graveyard.”
“Are you afraid of ghosts?” I asked.
“My father’s a ghost,” he whispered.
I asked if he wanted to learn how to throw a knife. He said, “Yes,” as I knew he would. He untucked his shirt, withdrew the knife he had stolen and gave it to me. It was a thick-bladed, single-edged knife, better suited for dicing celery than slitting a young throat. But it would serve my purpose. That I also knew. I’d spent all night projecting how the morning would unfold and, except for indulging in the tea, it had happened as I had imagined.
Damut kissed her son farewell. Malison followed me of his own free will. Without fear, he placed the instrument of his death into my hand. We were at the appointed place, at the appointed time. The stolen knife was warm from the heat of his body. I had only to use it. Yet I hesitated, and again prayed for Sythene to show me a different path.
“Aren’t you going to show me?” Malison prompted, as if to echo my prayer.”
― Sheever's Journal, Diary of a Poison Master
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