After this, you will leave the chocolate factory for a job on the Kölner-Düsseldorfer Linie bringing American tourists to see castles along the banks of the Rhine.
She laughed again, throwing her head back and shaking her hair. She took another long sip of her drink and placed it back on the table, on its marked wet circle.
Glen had stayed behind last year when the other boys in his class had come to Sydney. I winced at him. He had hair like wheat, and he wore a checked shirt instead of a school uniform. I felt duped.
Joel’s giggles turned to snorts and a volley of small farts as he tried desperately to avoid becoming a basket case on the spot.
When I told her I lost my job, she cried. I said, "It’s ok, I’ll get another job, we’ve got a little money, we’ll be fine." She told me, "That’s not why I’m crying."
Doctor Weller had as much as told him his pain and exhaustion, his misery, were all in his head, that he’d gotten inert and maudlin in his old age.
The limousine turned the corner, eased up to the curb and parked. I thought: Fuck. I must still owe one hellacious gambling debt.
I took the binoculars away. “Only fat kids do bird-watching. Pick again.”
On Halloween, the neighborhood children dress up like neo-conservatives and go door to door spreading lies.
Still, now in his mid-twenties, Allen often imagines what it must be like to have "underwater eyes."
Somewhere over the hill a siren went off. There was a gunshot, and then the siren stopped.
He was told that his condition was rare and always fatal. Gremlins with tiny pickaxes deconstructing his heart. He might die tomorrow, or in a year.
Every now and again, she’d yell out, “Four hundred and fifty-one dollars, idiot number two! Goddamn you, you’re losing, loser!” but mostly, she just sat slack-jawed until one of the nurses came by to give her another plate of mush…
Dave and Bob D. are sober-buddies. They never drank together. That’s why Bob D. can say "lovely" and "beautiful" to Dave and not get punched.