“This is Karma. I’m a bitch. Can you think of anyone who deserves a bitch slap? - Kat”
“It's funny. I don't think boys even know how to hold a grudge.”
“It took a long time for me to get better, but I did. I got better. But suddenly it's like the last four years never happened, and I'm feeling all the same terrible feelings about myself that I did back then.”
“Although I'm tired, and it feels like years since I had a good night's rest, I can't bring myself to fall asleep. It's like I've forgotten how.”
“You can chalk up things to coincide so many times before you have to face the truth.”
“This is Karma. I'm a bitch. Can you think of anyone who deserves a bitch slap?"
My phone buzzes again.
"If so meet at Judy Blue Eyes, 2am. If not, sit back and enjoy the show.”
“Her mind can’t go to the dark places mine does.”
“I’m sick of waiting for karma. Karma can suck it.”
“No hay casualidades sino destinos. No se encuentra sino lo que se busca, y se busca lo que en cierto modo está escondido en lo más profundo y oscuro de nuestro corazón. Porque si no, ¿cómo el encuentro con una misma persona no produce en dos seres los mismos resultados? ¿Por qué a uno el encuentro con un revolucionario lo lleva a la revolución y al otro lo deja indiferente? Razón por la cual parece como que uno termina por encontrarse al final con las personas que debe encontrar, quedando así la casualidad reducida a límites muy modestos. De modo que esos encuentros que en la vida de cada uno nos parecen asombrosos, no son otra cosa que la consecuencia de esas fuerzas desconocidas que nos aproximan a través de la multitud indiferente, como las limaduras de hierro se orientan a distancia hasta los polos de un poderoso imán; movimientos; movimientos que constituirían motivo de asombro para las limaduras si tuviesen alguna conciencia de sus actos sin alcanzar a tener, empero, un conocimiento pleno y total de la realidad. Así, marchamos un poco sonámbulos, hacia los seres que de algún modo son desde el comienzo nuestros destinatarios.”
“I will have a deeper and personal relationship with my life. I will not have a casual fling with my life. I will find peace in that. I want to contribute to the world around me. Casual debauchery is not fulfilling. I want to send good messages and good meanings along the way. The journey is about spreading love and understanding. Not using each other. Not distraction. Tools for presence in life. I want to bond with like-minded people who echo my appreciation and awareness for them.”
“It was very exciting for her, taking his dignity away in the name of love.”
“Subby Subby Subby," whispered Goss. "Keep those little bells on your slippers as quiet as you can. Sparklehorse and Starpink have managed to creep out of Apple Palace past all the monkeyfish, but if we're silent as tiny goblins we can surprise them and then all frolic off together in the Meadow of Happy Kites.”
“How long are you going to wait for this guy?”
I’m thrown by his sudden shift. “Ah . . . I don’t know.”
“Give me your keys.”
“What?”
“Give me your keys. I’m going to change your tire while we’re waiting.”
I fish in my purse and come up with a handful of keys. “You’re going to—”
“Stay in the car.” He grabs the keys and practically yanks them out of my fingers. Then he slams the door in my face.
I watch him in the path of his headlights, mystified. He opens my trunk, and, moments later, emerges with the spare tire. He lays it beside the car, then pulls something else from the darkened space. I’ve never changed a tire, so I have no idea what he’s doing. His movements are quick and efficient, though.
I shouldn’t be sitting here, just watching, but I can’t help myself. There’s something compelling about him. Dozens of cars have passed, but he was the only one to stop—and he’s helping me despite the fact that I’ve been less than kind to him all night.
He gets down on the pavement—on the wet pavement, in the rain—and slides something under the car. A hand brushes wet hair off his face.
I can’t sit here and watch him do this.
He doesn’t look at me when I approach. “I told you to wait in the car.”
“So you’re one of those guys? Thinks the ‘little woman’ should wait in the car?”
“When the little woman doesn’t know her tires are bald and her battery could barely power a stopwatch?” He attaches a steel bar to . . . something . . . and starts twisting it. “Yeah. I am.”
My pride flinches. “So what are you saying?” I ask, deadpan. “You don’t want my help?”
His smile is rueful. “You’re kind of funny when you’re not so busy being judgmental.”
“You’re lucky I’m not kicking you while you’re down there.”
He loses the smile but keeps his eyes on whatever he’s doing. “Try it, sister.”
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