Gavin was gloating. "Enjoy your final moments, Kevin ... maybe use them to wonder how I found you. Good-bye ..."
He dismissively gestured at Paul, his personal bodyguard and hitman. Paul, with an expression of a stone, drew a nine-millimeter out of his coat and pointed it at me.
I had to stop him. "Paul, I can give you two very good reasons not to pull that trigger."
Paul said nothing. But he also did nothing. "First: I know where Kendra is."
That got his attention. He still didn't move, though. "She's in China, which you probably already know, but...
One day, we were children. The next day, we were kids, running down to the dock by ourselves. You carried a bowl of strawberries and your raincoat flapped in the wind. Your mother always made you wear a raincoat.
Daisy followed us down to the dock. She was old by then, and you'd never liked her much--not since her flopping, whining puppy years. The dog had a tendency to bark at passing ships, to squeal miserably when you dove into the water and swam further from her sight.
That day, Daisy stood as close to the dock's edge as her...
"Travel light, but take everything with you."
It took her a moment to try and work out whether it was meant as a philosphical proposition or actually practical advice. Not that it felt paticularly practical.
Still. One easy solution. "What are you on about now?"
Effective, too. "Everything you need. I don't want to have to use a phrase book to work out how to ask for...what do you always forget?"
"Nothing. Clearly. Or you'd remember. You may well have learnt the lingo for it, if there was just one thing..."
"Sunglasses. You always lose them."
"Ah, well, that's different."...
Janelle stood behind the old tree she used to climb when that sort of thing was appropriate for girls her age. In one hand she had the invitation to the party that she had printed out despite having long ago memorized all of the important details. In her other hand she held a glossy gift bag with a preposterously large red bow. Her mother had chosen the gift and she hadn't bothered to ask what it was. Her feelings about teh party were ambivalent to say the least. She hadn't heard from Kelly since the incident at Jared's house last...
It was my "life's work," that's what they call such a thing, but it makes it sound so organised, like my life was something i contolled and I sensibly chose each morning to get up and expend my earthly energies on this tower. "You must have a lot of self-discipline" people say to me when I meet them at parties and we discuss our lives as though we see them clearly, as patterns of behaviour about which we can make broad statements. I try to answer, as best I can, saying something appropriately self-effacing.
What I'd like to tell them...
The paradox was that while we had been sitting in a cafe in Paris, waiting for the kick, our future selves had reprogrammed the jukebox to play nothing but St. Etienne. So we sat and we drank our tea and slowly, little by little, we became our own dream. The future died there amongst the earl grey and gilt picture frames, and with it, so did she.
She wasn't more than 10 when the meteor struck Beijing, the meteor we should have been there to stop. Huddled in a doorway, she died wrapped in red silk and fire. She was...
"I'm having no part in this. I'm having nothing to do with any of it. Because it's wrong. You're wrong. This entire thing is...it's wrong. It's just...wrong."
"Have you always been good with words?" He sauntered closer, pale fingers tracing my cheek, my neck. "You're relying quite heavily on that word. Wrong. Have you thought about what it really means? How damning it truly is? I don't think you have."
I hated the feel of his fingers across my skin, hated the jolt that had run straight through me, hated the tingling, hated the - I hated it.
He was...
It confused them, the gnarled branch lying across rows of newly planted wheat. The tree had been healthy and the weather clear. A bob of bushy fur worked its way along the length of the fallen wood as a squirrel investigated the carnage.
Years from now, when the children had scaled the sheer rock face near their home, they'd think back to this day.
"And now where shall we climb?" the boy asked.
"There," the girl replied, a mountain peak under her finge
She'd have preferred the electric chair. The clinic's lobby was a stale tan color. It was April, and there was a Christmas movie on TV for Christ's sake.
Her name was called, and she went to sign the form, pay the co-pay, and was assured by the lady at the desk that this was indeed, confidential. She was asked if the man next to her was the father, or her boyfriend, or something. She lied and said no. He looked upset but ultimately should have been glad that she said no, he'd probably end up getting arrested for rape, anyway....
There was blood on my pillow. Prom tomorrow and I was still bleeding from the tooth extraction. Four wisdom teeth removed. And I was off to prom.
My date was an ex-boyfriend. We were desperate for the quintessential high school experience. Desperate enough to hook back up again.
My dress was a hand-me-down. Less Pretty in Pink and more High School Reunion. I didn't know how to sew, so all I could do was attempt to cut off the ruffles. Blue taffeta--not my best color.
The handbag was from my grandmother. White sequin and plastic pearls. I tucked the syringe...