American Gods

Neil Gaiman

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Shadow was not superstitious. He did not believe in anything he could not see. Still, he could feel disaster hovering above the prison in those final weeks, just as he had felt it in the days before the robbery.
'Believe' said the rumbling voice. 'Believe what?' asked Shadow. 'What should I believe?' 'Everything' roared the buffalo man.
Reklam
Well, seeing that today is certainly my day-why don't you call me Wednesday? Mister Wednesday. Although given the weather, it might as well be Thursday, eh?
Will you call me goddess? Will you pray to me? Will you worship me with your body?
'You're a liar.' 'Of course. And a good one. The best you will ever meet.'
'I'm a leprechaun,' he said. 'So you are originally from Ireland?' 'I told you. I'm a leprechaun. We don't come from fucken Moscow.'
Reklam
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