Monday, November 26, 2007

Bloor Line, last car on the wrong end of train.

Caucasian woman, early 20s, with long black hair and black framed glasses, wearing a B&W checkered wool coat, collar popped, resting high against the base of her skull.

The Shadow Boxer, Stephen Heighton (Knopf)

Page 151:

Still no sign of the strip of night clubs Eddy described. Against the lights he dekes across a six-lane avenue walled by office buildings whose blockish facades amplify the traffic till it seems a motorcade of tractor-trailers must be bearing down on him.

When they met he was soft. She felt it when he hugged her at the end of their date, gentle and forgiving around the middle. So when they slept together she wasn't surprised by his top layer of padding, not unlike her mattress at home. She came to look forward to their evenings, her cheek resting solid against his chest. With such support she found she could sleep undisturbed for hours. But as he slipped out of bed that morning, into his trousers, she saw it and wondered, When had that happened? When had he developed the butt of her mother?

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