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Quote by Cara Lynn Shultz

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The Dark World

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Cara Lynn Shultz

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“The room they had reached served as an impromptu drug-lounge in which a hundred naked addicts engaged in communal sex. One of them drew nearer and spontaneously relieved himself all over Aurora’s shoes. ‘You’re welcome,’ the addict said proudly, buttoning up his soiled jeans and walking away like a champ. A nearby woman saw the whole thing and smirked. ‘You’re one lucky lady, you know that?’ she smiled toothlessly. The remnants of today’s orgy were still visible in her mouth. ‘I wouldn’t piss on you if you were on fire.”

“The ‘eye for eye’ policy satisfies the logical mind but this policy is also equally impracticable. you may follow this policy against a person who is weaker than you. However, if the person is more powerful than you- like your boss, parents, government, the police-it would be disastrous to follow this policy as it may lead to your total ruin.”

“I couldn't cry anymore—she had killed something inside me with her last text message, about our, child. Around 2-3 AM, I finally fell asleep, only to be awoken around 4 AM by a strange, bothersome feeling. It could have been anyone or anything else, as I was so blindfolded and unaware of the danger—even though I was perfectly aware of the danger because of my signature on Golan. I soon realised that it was her hair tickling my face, as she leaned over me trying to cover my face with kisses. I was spooked and sat up in bed, thinking that something was crawling on my face. We nearly head-bumped each other when I woke up in surprise. It was then that I realised it was her. It was not nice. I wish she had put her hands on me, if she had touched me and woke me up. If she had communicated honestly instead. But she was out of touch.”

“Halfway home from Plaza Espana, I was in no rush and stopped by a quiet, closed little square on my way, called Plaza de Santa Madrona. I bought a Lucky Strike, “blando” softpack, “sin aditivos”, from a small bar's cigarette vending machine and ordered a cafe cortado, my favorite coffee in Spain. Both Adam and I smoked the same type of cigarettes in Spain; that was the best one. In Italy, I preferred to smoke MS Azzurro and caffe corretto con La Vecchia Romagna - a short, strong espresso with a shot of Italian cognac. That could wake you up after a seventeen-hour roadtrip from Budapest to Gaeta, which was necessary as administrative duties had been added to my interpreter roles over time. If I made a mistake, I wouldn't receive a bonus. Indeed. There was speech. Only once or twice in almost 5 years by the end of 2014. I knew I would end up at the Magalhaes and Radas corner, walking that way towards home anyhow. I was just sitting on that little square, surrounded by buildings; I was the only person sitting at the bar terrace. This was the first time I did not want to go home to Carrer Radas. There was a fountain in the middle; you could almost hear the water running down into a tub, echoing on the hidden little street which had no traffic whatsoever. It was almost like a holy moment - “Santa Madrona, help me,” I thought. I, the atheist, was asking for some miracle in that silent, peaceful, hidden little plazita where time seemed to stand still.”