“No matter how bad your past is, you still don’t want it erased.”
“In climbing, there was always a fraction of a second between the security of being locked in and the freedom of an actual rappel.”
“Lucas Benes lay in a sleeping bag on the roof of his father’s hotel, dreaming about a past he couldn’t remember.”
“Doing something was better than doing nothing.
Without warning Lucas hit the emergency stop but-ton, and the elevator braked with an uncomfortable jolt. Then he mashed the OPEN DOOR button and punched the door itself. The front doors opened in between the second and first floors.
Lucas’s heart pumped in his chest. “I hear that baby in the parking lot crying.”
“Lucas crept around the building to the back parking lot. And there it was, just like he had seen from the roof—a baby lying in a shopping cart. Lucas’s mind went negative. What if the kid was dead? He tried to think if he had ever seen a dead person before. He’d never been to a funeral, and he knew he had never seen a dead baby. And he definitely didn’t want to.
His heart pounded in his chest.
Lucas walked, almost tiptoed, toward the shopping cart. The last of the parking lot lights flickered out, leav-ing only the early morning sun. He moved across the blacktop, making sure not to step on a white line. At this moment he needed all the luck he could muster. As he got closer to the cart, he held his breath and swallowed. Then he grabbed the shopping cart handle and looked over into the basket.
He gasped.”
“The wrought-iron gate squeaked as Lucas opened it. He lowered the rented bike down the stone steps and onto the sidewalk. To his right was the most famous Globe Hotel in Paris, disguised under another name. In front of the entrance five Curukians sat on mopeds. Lu-cas and his eighteen-month-old friend then shot out across the street and through the invisible beam of an-other security camera.
He rode diagonally across the place de la Concorde and headed toward the river. It seemed only natural. The motorcycles trailed him. He pedaled fast across the Alex-andre III bridge and zipped past Les Invalides hospital. He tried to turn left at the Rodin Museum, but Goper rode next to him, blocking his escape.”
“The sign above the door was written in French. It read: ARRÊTE ! C’EST ICI L’EMPIRE DE LA MORT.
“That means,” he explained to Gini, “‘Stop! It is here the Empire of Death.”
“1. Form the possessive singular of nouns with 's.”
“Life has been some combination of fairy-tale coincidence and joie de vivre and shocks of beauty together with some hurtful self-questioning.”
“fish and visitors stink in 3 days.”
“Sjetio sam se priče, nena mi je pričala, davno, o karanđolozu, crnom demonu, koji o Božiću sačekuje ljude na mračnim raskršćima, i popne im se na leđa, smrdljiv i težak. Čovjek ga nosi i posrće pod težinom, zagušen smradom, obamro od straha, a karanđoloz ga pita: jesam li težak? Čovjek stenje i kaže ono što misli: težak si. Karanđoloz postane još teži. Ujutru nađu čovjeka mrtva. Ali ko odgovori: nisi težak, spašće se, jer karanđoloza odmah nestane, i čovjek je slobodan. Zbog te riječi hrabrosti, zbog riječi prkosa. Docnije sam mislio da je to priča o životu: ako se tužimo kako nam je teško, klonućemo; ako kažemo životu: izdržaću, nećeš me slomiti, muka postaje lakša.”
“What do your parents do? Do they travel a lot?"
My brow wrinkled. "No, they don't." I was tired of the interrogation. "Do yours?"
He blinked. "What?"
"Do your parents travel a lot? Are they still married? How many in your family? How old are you? What classes do you have? Boxers or briefs? What's your GPA? Do you always go around knocking strange girls off their feet and then hammering them with a barrage of personal questions?" I finished with a cocky smile.
Tristan hid a grin behind his fist. Mr. Exotic levelled me a steady stare, a sly smile gaining momentum. "Do you always end up straddling the guys that do?"
Tristan choked. My smile froze. Crap.
"And as for boxers or briefs." One hand went to his belt buckle. "I'd be happy to..."
Double crap. I jabbed a thumb over my shoulder towards my house "I've gotta go.”
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