“You shouldn't give him a ride, Grace!" Meme snapped. "He's likely to strangle you and dump your body in the lake."
"Is this true?" I asked Callahan.
"I was thinking about it," he admitted.”
“Here's the thing, Grace," Cal said, a smile playing at the corner of his mouth. "Ever since that first day when you smacked me in the head with your field hockey stick-"
"You just can't let that go, can you?" I muttered.
He grinned fully now. "-and even when you hit me with the rake and dented my truck, and when you were spying on me from your attic and your dog was mauling me, Grace, I always knew you were the one for me.”
“Dance class, huh?" he said. "You don't look the type."
"And what does that mean?" I asked.
"You're not built like a dancer," he commented.
"You should probably stop talking now," I advised.
"Got a little bit more meat on your bones than those girls you see on TV."
"You should definitely stop talking now." I glared.”
“If you don't want to have a baby, that's fine. And if you want sex on the kitchen table, you'll get it." He glared down at his wife. "But you're coming home, and you're coming home now, and I will be happy to discuss this further once you're naked and in my bed." He paused. "Or on the table." His face flushed. "And the next time you leave me, you'd better mean it, woman, because I'm not going to be treated like a doormat. Understand?”
“Quiet down! You're supposed to be dead!" snapped a passing Union soldier.
"This is a private conversation," Margaret snapped back.
"This is a battle," he hissed.
"No, honey, this is called pretending. I hate to break it to you, but we're not really in the Civil War. If you'd like to feel a bit more authentic, I'd be happy to stick this bayonet up your ass.”
“I'm at a bar with a woman! So there, you disgusting whore! And I'm going to take her back to our house and I'm going to have sex with her!" His voice grew louder and louder, cracking with an intensity. "That's right! On the couch, in our bed, on the kitchen floor, on the goddamn kitchen table! How do you like that, you cheating, miserable skank?" Then he flipped his phone shut, looked at me and smiled. "So where were we?" he asked pleasantly.”
“Instead of answering, I just wrapped my arms around him and kissed him for all I was worth. Because when you meet The One, you just know.”
“I've made up boyfriends too' Karen said, nodding her head slowly. 'The best man I ever dated was all in my head' 'Thank you!' I exclaimed.”
“Now that I thought of it, perhaps whacking the burglar wasn’t quite…necessary.
It occurred to me that he said “Hi.” I thought he did, anyway. He said hi. Do burglars usually
greet their victims? Hi. I’d like to rob your house. Does that work for you?”
“Are these from you?”
The voice so startled me that I whirled around. Unfortunately, I was still holding the rake in
my hand. Even more unfortunately, the wooden handle caught him right along the side of his
face. He staggered back, stunned, the bottle of wine I’d just left at his door slipping from his
grasp and shattering on the path with a crash. The scent of merlot drifted up around us, canceling
out the smells of spring.
“Oops,” I said in a strangled voice.
“Jesus Christ, lady,” my new neighbor cursed, rubbing his cheek. “What is your problem?”
“He had all the rough and sultry appeal of Marlon Brando in On the Waterfront. Clive Owen in Sin City. Russell Crowe in everything he did.”
“I am so lonely without you, Aedan," Jane said simply.
"You truly want me?"
"More than anything. I'm only half without you."
"Then you are my woman." His words were finality, a bond he would not permit broken. She had given herself to his keeping. He would never let her go.
"And you'll never leave me?" she pressed.
"I'll stay with you for all of ever, lass."
Jane's eyes flared, and she looked at him strangely. "And then yet another day?" she asked breathlessly.
"Oh, aye.”
“Fold your arms round me close and strain me so that our hearts may break and our souls go free at last. Take me to that happy place of which you told me long ago. The fields whence none return, but where great singers sing their songs forever.”
“КУЛИНАРНО
След като се пържих на бавен огън от чакане под гранясалото слънце, най-накрая се озовах в зеления гювеч на един автобс, червив от пътници като швейцарско сирене. Сред куп юфка забелязах голям макарон с изпостелял от диета врат и на тиквата с мекица, на която се открояваше нещо като конец за рязане на масло. Този пъпеш сви сармите на един (попарен, сякаш са му изяли десерта!) сухар, понеже му правел на кайма джоланите. Но после бързо пусна кокала, за да се разлее (с брашно и захар, колкото поеме!) в една опразнена формичка за кекс.
Тъкмо се канех да преглътна всичко в автобуса на връщане, когато пред бюфета на гара Сен Севарин отново видях същия тутманик заедно с някакъв тиквеник (от тия, дето са на всяка манджа мерудия!), който му разтягаше лукуми как да се гарнира. И нашия съвсем я втаса.”
“All I heard were the bumps and crunches of my tires on the dirt road, blending with the dark noises of the forest. But it wasnt the forest that scared me. It was the people who lived and prowled within them.”
“Prince of the Enchanted Forest. Adopted son of the Fairy Folk. Wild Boy. Your reputation precedes you, child. All of Germany has been talking about you lately. And yet, no one knows your name.” The boy looked up at the King and smiled. The king smiled back, and took a deep breath. “…Henceforth, you shall be known as Peter.”
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