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“Yeah I was aware of the book, but hadn't read it. So as soon as I'd finished the script, I got a copy of the book and read that. My wife had read it and she loves it, so that was a good sounding board. I like her writing style, she's such a page-turner. I enjoyed The Constant Princess as well. I think she's great. The books are very popular with women and I can see why.”

“Yeah, I worry what will happen when we stop running. When we go back to school. When she meets other boys. Boys who don’t argue and snap at her. Boys who don’t obsessively worry about her. Boys that could take her to a movie and stay right until the end, not have to leave halfway through because he started turning into a wolf. But she wouldn’t pick up some random guy in the mall. Ever. So why was I over-reacting? I don’t know. I saw the guy and something ignited in my brain, a flash-fire that burned away reason and common sense. If Simon hadn’t stopped me, I’d have made an idiot of myself and called attention to us. Worse, I’d have embarrassed Chloe. I was over-protective enough as it was. Frothing at the mouth because a guy talked to her? Really not going help us get to that next anniversary.”

“Yeah, I would. I'm not saying every day is sunshine and kittens, but Exy's gotta be fun. When it stops being that and starts being a tiresome thing I'm forced to do, then it's time for me to walk away. I mean, right now, I don't have a choice. On account of my scholarship and whatnot. But after I graduate? If I hadn't come back around to enjoying it again, I'd drop it like a hotcake and find something new to chase. Life's too short to be miserable all the time.”

“Yeah.” “It’s a deal then,” I say, angling my head to look up at him. “You’ll become the head of the number one tech start-up in all of China, and I’ll be a renowned, award-winning journalist or English professor. Together, we’ll—” “Be the nation’s greatest power couple?” he offers. “I was going to say conquer the world,” I admit. “But sure. I guess we can start small.”

“Yeah. It's a metaphor. Jess and I are partners.' I point across the bay at nearby San Francisco. 'Look at that city,' I say. 'That's society. It's Out There. I this its own illusions, its own abilities, its own tasks. We used to be a part of it. Oh, we are, in some way, but now we are something else. We are a distinct culture, a separate island. To get to Us, you have to swim across a bay in cold ocean waters. By the time you get here, you would have come to respect the ocean and the waters and the waves—and the beaches of this island would remind you of how great it is to be on land, to be in the presence of a great, married couple.' Jack laughs. 'Now you really are a megalomaniac. A true idealist.' 'I don't know, Jack,' I say. 'I think marriage is sacred.' 'I can tell.' He pulls out a cigarette and lights it. He blows smoke around and then looks at me. 'You want one?' he asks. 'This one's not a metaphor.”

“Yeah, just what I needed, a massive three-day Hostess binge, followed by a week of trying to replicate recipes so that if no one decides to buy and reissue Twinkies and Suzy Q's, I'll be all set. It was a ridiculous endeavor, since most of the experience of Hostess is in the slightly plasticky tastes and textures, which cannot be replicated in a home kitchen. You can make a delicious moist yellow cake and fill it with a marshmallowy vanilla cream, and it will be spectacular, trust me; I ate at least a dozen. But it won't taste like a Twinkie. The cake won't have the springiness, the filling won't have the fluff, and it is impossible to get those three little dots in the bottom. Which would be fine, since I hadn't actually eaten a Hostess product for the better part of a decade, hadn't missed them either. But that little news item hit, and in a Pavlovian fit of nostalgia, I was off to the local gas station to load up on white boxes with blue and red details. Twinkies, Sno Balls, Ding Dongs... even a cherry Fruit Pie. All of them the flavors of my youth, and proof that there are certain things you should leave as fond memories, since they don't really hold up.”

“Yeah, let’s get John here. That way we can stall for a while longer. We can keep on doing nothing for just a little while longer.” Albert said, “Take it easy, Howard.” “Take it easy?” Howard jumped to his feet. “Yeah? Where were you last night, Albert? Huh? Because I didn’t see you out there on the street listening to kids screaming, seeing kids running around hurt and scared and choking, and Edilio and Orc struggling, and Dekka hacking up her lungs and Jack crying and… “You know who couldn’t even take it?” Howard raged. “You know who couldn’t even take what was happening? Orc. Orc, who’s not scared of anything. Orc, who everyone thinks is some kind of monster. He couldn’t take it. He couldn’t…but he did. And where were you, Albert? Counting your money? How about you, Astrid? Praying to Jesus?” Astrid’s throat tightened. She couldn’t breathe. For a moment panic threatened to overwhelm her. She wanted to run from the room, run away and never look back. Edilio got to his feet and put an arm around Howard. Howard allowed it, and then he did something Astrid never thought she would see. Howard buried his face in Edilio’s shoulder and cried, racking sobs. “We’re falling apart,” Astrid whispered for herself alone. But there was no easy escape. Everything Howard had said was true. She could see the truth reflected in Albert’s stunned expression. The two of them, the smart ones, the clever ones, the great defenders of truth and fairness and justice, had done nothing while others had worked themselves to exhaustion.”

“Yeah, Mom, I’m fine. Harper?” “Aw, God, what’d I hit?” I asked, groaning while shifting to sit up. The place spun a little. The cold tiles bit into the seams of my jeans. “The shopping cart,” Cash replied, humor edging his voice. “Shit… Feels like a truck, only it hit me.” “Anything hurt?” Cash bent down into my line of vision. “My hands.” I turned them over to find them grazed, “and ass. I fell on it.” “Can you bash yourself up any more?”

“Yeah sex is cool, but it's easily accessible. At this age I'm looking for something deeper. Chemistry i can't find on a resume, passion i can't ignore. Mind connection that allows conversation without words, a gaze that makes me forget which planet I'm on, and a depth that makes me want to stay. I want to dive deep into someone's soul and feel like I belong there. Face the world separately but intertwined in each others presence. A home that carries a heartbeat. All these years of riding solo, has helped me tend to my heart space and what a glorious little beat it now holds. An auric field re-awakened. A self-love journey, just for myself.”

“Yeah. She's still just observing though. She's too useless to even carry plates at the moment, so please just think of her as some Russian ornament.” Tom laughed at the owner's blunt response, and asked another question. “Chief, how do I say something like, 'you're beautiful', in Russian?” “...... 'Vi ocharovatelny'.” “Err... Bee, acherabatennen.” However, hearing this, the Caucasian woman looked confused at Tom, and spoke to the owner behind the counter. “...... What is this man saying? It is unintelligible. I question its relation to the Japanese language.” With a bitter smile, the owner turned his head towards the woman, and spoke to her. “'Vi ocharovatelny'.” “...... Why do you suddenly speak these social compliments? Please concisely explain your reasoning.” “That's what that young man over there just tried to say to you.” “In which language, exactly?” Listening to their conversation,”