“You think I’m some kind of freak you can show off to your friends?” Locked. Loaded.
Kenji clears his throat. “Not a freak. Just . . . interesting.”
I point my gun at his nose. “I’m so interesting I can kill you with my bare hands.”
A barely perceptible flash of fear flickers in his eyes.
He swallows a few gallons of humility. Tries to smile. “You sure you’re not crazy?”
“No.” I cock my head. “I’m not sure.”
As she set out, the destroyer of the cities said to her angrily, ‘Truly, the daughter is like her father in all her ways. Your heart is as hard to fathom as a cavern of Himālaya, in which many sharp blades have accumulated, fallen from his cloud-garlanded peaks; your cruelty comes from his rock; your inconsistency from his various trees; your crookedness from his winding rivers; and you are as difficult to enjoy carnally as snow. All of this has been transferred to you, Goddess, from the snowy mountain, Himālaya.’
“One day—it was both pathetic and annoying—Nora went to the market to buy toothpaste. When she came back, she was terribly upset and indignant. ‘I asked one of the staff for toothpaste,’ she said, ‘and all he would do was show me to a big rack filled with different kinds of toothpaste. He wouldn’t tell me which one to buy! Why wouldn’t he tell me?’ The multitude of choices available in this strange new country frightened her; she couldn’t handle it. And she was as- tounded when Ayn explained that you didn’t really have to count your change at the checkout counter; she couldn’t believe that the staff wouldn’t try to cheat her.” On another occasion—no longer convinced that she and Victor would remain permanently in America—Nora said, “What would I do if I stayed here? In Leningrad, I spend most of my time hunting down the food and other things I want, and waiting in lines. But here, if I go to the grocery store, everything is right there, half the time you don’t even need to cook it! I’d have nothing to do!” The impression among the friends of Ayn who heard this comment was that Nora was proud of her ability to maneuver for the things she wanted, proud of her ability to be devious and conniving. In America, where life was easier, there seemed no outlet for that ability.
Sayfa 376
“You’re right. I do love the sound of watching you for lifetimes.” I drop my voice low, as deep as I want to shove my cock inside her. “I also love the possibility that I have fallen in love with you in each life. Fucked that sweet pussy of yours and made you fall in love with me as much as I am with you. What did I tell you, little mouse? That you couldn’t escape me. If it’s real, then I’ve chased you across time and space, and you’ve never been able to get away.”
Bakire Hop Diye Yok Oldu
Bu paradigma değişikliği konusunda bir fikir edinmenin daha iyi yollarında biri, bakirelerin ve bekâretin popüler kültürde nerede, ne zaman ve nasıl ortaya çıktığına bakmaktır. 20. yüzyılın bekâretle ilgili popüler kültürü, kolaylıkla bir sürü kitap cildini doldurabilir ama bir program dörtlemesini -T h e Rocky H onor Picture Show ile Little
Sayfa 342 - IletisimKitabı okudu
