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The Community: A Funny and Disturbing Conspiracy Mystery Novel

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Finn Eccleston

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“I saw Gert. The time machine took me back to a few years ago, the Yorkes’ house… and there she was. On the phone, organizing a protest against… the usual.” “You talk to her?” “You nuts? She’s fourteen—what do I say? ‘Hey, in a few years you’re gonna find out your parents are evil time-traveling overlords and help kill them, fall in love with the dumbest guy you know and than eat it ‘cause he’s too slow to protect you?’” “You could’ve brought her back…” “Butterfly effect, remember? Yeah, I looked it up. ‘Sides she had a few good years left. Which is more than I can promise with us. I just hid. Watched her for a while.” “Was it hard?” “It was f#%&ing beautiful.”

“You are sitting at your crossroads right now, and two different versions of you can emerge in this next phase of your life. You can choose either the complacent, settled, comfort-seeking, easy-road-chasing, and excuse-making version or the relentless, hungry, dedicated, challenge-facing, risk-taking, reality-checking, and constantly adapting version.”

“That Saturday evening, they had watched a movie together, and at one point Harold and Julia had begun talking about the Truro house's kitchen renovation. He half dozed, listening to their quiet talk, which had been so dull he couldn't follow any of the details but had also filled him with a great sense of peace: it had seemed to him the ideal expression of an adult relationship, to have someone with whom you could discuss the mechanics of a shared existence.”

“Já que não és bonita, deves salientar-te pela inteligência. Assim há se de conseguir mais na vida do que essas criaturinhas que contam com o sucesso do seu palminho de cara. Quero que aprendas também a tocar piano. Assim falou à minha mãe, que se contava entre as mulheres bonitas. Suspeitaria do mal que me causava? Pouco a pouco fui-me convencendo de ser feia. Olhando para o espelho via uma cara redonda, sem dúvida redonda em excesso, via olhos cinzentos (e não era o cinzento a cor mais feia de todas?), cabelo liso, sem ondas nem caracóis. No nariz curto já Anna repararam e gostava de puxar por ele. E como se me meteu na cabeça que os olhos eram demasiado pequenos, comecei a arregalá-los quando caminhava pelas ruas.”