"Now I'm a beautiful short loser dancing in the green."
e-kitap olarak okuyorum.
“Oh, darling, my eyes were on the dance floor. They were on you dancing with my brother. Why do you think I’ve been drinking?”
we’re just two different colored globs in a lava lamp, mixing freely, dancing around each other, unhindered.
Old gangsters never die, except for the few that fall asleep in cinemas at midnight. Lay there sprawling in the footlights for the usherette or the ice cream girl to find. And if I die, God knows I might, don’t let me die in black and white, don’t make me share a haunted screen with every other ghost boy who stood trembling in the foyer drinking
The waiting was interminable. I do not know how much time passed on the clock, that nameless and universal time of clocks that is alien to our emotions, to our destinies, to the inception and ruin of love, to a death vigil. But by my own time it was a vast and complex temporal space filled with figures and turnings back, at times a dark and
Sayfa 133 - Penguin Modern ClassicsKitabı okudu
“A pretty mother on earth is better than a beautiful dead one in the sky even if she did leave you all alone to go dancing.”
TwylaKitabı okudu
Lot’s Wife
They say I looked back out of curiosity.
But I could have had other reasons.
I looked back mourning my silver bowl.
Carelessly, while tying my sandal strap.
So I wouldn’t have to keep staring at the righteous nape
of my husband Lot’s neck.
From the sudden conviction that if I dropped dead
he wouldn’t so much as hesitate.
From the disobedience of
“Is it hard?”
…
“Holidays without your mom?”
I was so startled by the question that I quickly blinked away. Inside, I begged him not to ask more. Even three years after her death, my mom’s face swam continuously in my thoughts: dancing gray eyes, thick black hair, deep brown skin, her lopsided smile waking me up every morning until that first one she missed. Every time I looked in the mirror I saw her reflected back at me.
So yeah, hard didn’t cover it. Hard was like describing a mountain as a lump, like describing the ocean as a puddle.
And neither of those things could contain my feelings about Christmas without her.”
We are travelers on a cosmic journey,stardust,swirling and dancing in the eddies and whirlpools of infinity. Life is eternal. We have stopped for a moment to encounter each other, to meet, to love, to share.This is a precious moment. It is a little parenthesis in eternity.
