Caucasion girl, 16-17, long brown hair, haunting Husky-blue eyes, pistachio-green long spring coat (out of season), white pants (out of season), black sneakers, adorned with heartbroken boy who leans against the rail watching her read, unruly brown curls falling down past his eyes and the puffy, wet lips that only young teenaged boys can have.
Catch-22, Joseph Heller (Simon & Schuster)
About 80 pages in:
"That's not what justice is," the colonel jeered, and began pounding the table again with his big fat hand. "That's what Karl Marx is. I'll tell you what justice is. Justice is a knee in the gut from the floor on the chin at night squeaky with a knife brought up down on the magazine of a battleship sandbagged underhanded in the dark without a word of warning.
You don't know you're pretty. I wonder, does he see the pretty? The other day you were reading a graphic novel and he looked as if he could cry. He loves you, you know. You wreck him. And he doesn't even hate you for it. I've seen you two before. I sense a love story coming on.
4 comments:
I followed the link from Bookninja and am smitten. Just had to let you know I absolutely loved this entry.
Thank you!
I have to tell ya, I look forward to the morning commute because of these two. I don't see them as often as I'd like. Their narrative is so bittersweet.
What a lovely image... I wish I could commute with you. Oh wait! I can just read your blog.
Perfect.
Thanks very much! I'm thrilled that people are enjoying the blog, and getting it. I was hoping that people would want to read this sort of thing.
Take care!
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