1. Roam the alleys of midnight Paris for a suitable cocotte. 2. Enjoy her company for at least an hour. 3. Lecture her on the degeneracy of sex through wispy plumes from a second Winston.
“Rabbit says, ‘You two take it easy,’ and turns; they flee, father and son, down the hall, down the steel stairwell, not waiting for an elevator, to a basement of parked cars, a polychrome lake caught in a low illumined grotto. Rabbit blinks to realize that even while he and Peggy were heating their little mutual darkness a cold fluorescent world surrounded them in hallways and...
“While Ma and Janice had scraped together supper, another miracle of sorts, the girl had sat there in the bamboo basket chair brought in from the porch and they all eased around her like cars easing past an accident on the highway. Harry could hardly take his eyes from this grown woman sitting there so demure and alien and perceptibly misshapen. She breathed that air he’d forgotten, of...
Times are bad. Children no longer obey their parents and everyone is writing a...– Cicero, circa 43 BC (via qglas, ayse)
“The waitress comes - Harrison orders Bourbon-on-the-Rocks for himself and Margaret and another Daiquiri for Ruth - and Rabbit watches her back recede as if it is the one real thing in the world: the little triangle of black bra under the two blue-brown pillows of muscle. He wants Ruth to see him looking.” Rabbit, Run - pg. 165