Gerhard’s Reviews > Lost Lambs > Status Update

“I heard about your daughter being a terrorist and all,” said Jim. “Tough break.”
Bud got into the front seat of the minivan.
“I heard you have a basement full of ceramic vaginas,” said Bud out the window.

“The value of ephemerality,” Paul Alabaster went on. “I can purchase the land beneath the sunset, the airspace it occupies, but I cannot own the moment, the rays of fleeting light. This frustrates me, Miss Flynn.”
“Totally,” said Abigail.

She told Abigail that she could get her a vial of holy water from the Vatican. Just the Taser would do, Abigail had said.

Abigail’s words—“None of it’s true”—replayed in her head. Tibet was skeptical, had started to question the very nature of truth. Was truth objective? To say there is no absolute truth is self-refuting. If it’s true that there is no absolute truth, that in itself is an absolutely true statement.

Everyone in Tibet’s family was named after the place in which they were conceived.
“Your cousin should have been called Airport Steakhouse,” joked Tibet’s mother.

Of course. The totality of love. Bud had done crazy things himself under its influence. He slumped against the tree house doorframe and threw his hands up to God.

“I am a priest,” said Father Andrew. “My relationships are not transactional.”
“I’m a capitalist. Everything is transactional.”

“You perform for and with respect to the Harbor, the institution of commerce, and to capitalism at large, yes?”
“I’d have to check the handbook,” said Bud.

The girl’s job description was not apparently clear to Wes, though Mr. Alabaster referred to her once as his girl Friday, which struck Wes as odd since she also worked Monday through Thursday, but he never asked questions.

“Do you have a girlfriend?” Abigail asked Marshall.
“Oh, I got a girl,” said Marshall. “Only the prettiest on this side of the planet.” He rifled through a Velcro sports wallet, retrieving a creased photo of a Labrador.
“She’s lovely,” said Abigail.