Netta’s Reviews > The Disappearers > Status Update

Sometimes I wake up with a loneliness so heavy it feels like motion sickness. Sometimes I wish that instead of a quiet life I would rather somebody screaming at me. I want somebody to scream at me so badly.

He doesn't stop me, which tells me yes, and I climb on top of him,which also tells me yes,and I spread his legs and push them back,which makes him grab his cock, which tells me yes. I spit in my hand and wet his hole and he moans,which tells me yes. But when I brush my cock against it he says no.
"Your dick saying yes", I say.
"And if I was a girl my mouth would be saying rape", he says, and it shuts me totally down.

"Call him Havelock. Locky. Lock and key. Cock—"
"Shut up, Brown. Use the name God give me."
"God give names like Enoch and Methuselah. Not Have—"

His book: The Dragon Can’t Dance by Earl Lovelace surprises me because Havelock looks and sounds like he has a favourite Brontë sister.

There is this thing about Jamdown, which I never notice in foreign, that by evening even the city starts to smell and sound like country. Crickets and dewy grass and car tires rolling over what sounds more like mud than road, and mosquitoes that think they sing like birds, and won't leave you alone. And just this, I don't know, sadness. I love it.