“Bottom line, there’s a difference between fucking, having sex, and making love.” This is something you fear not ever understanding.
The only thing she thinks about is getting away, getting away, getting away. The only thing she feels is her antlers brushing the foliage. The only thing she sees is the forest flying past.
“Nelson, I love you,” she’d said, and suddenly her red mouth was on my throat. “I’m not happy, Nelson. I’m not happy.”
Eli placed his fingertips on the side of Ronnie’s throat and felt a weak pulse. He leaned back, resting his hands on his knees. Then he laughed, the sound high-pitched and broken. In his chest he felt something hollow and restless beneath his flesh.
Finally, the dogs dug their way under the fence. Maret could never be sure how they scraped past the concrete. They drank the pool water down six inches. Barb shook and shook when Jerome showed up. You can’t kill them, she said. You can’t kill them.
Did you find God? he asks. Is that what this is?
I hugged him, and he hugged back and the two of us were just crying there, in the rain, our black clothes getting soaked. “I don’t know what to do with myself.”
Because you aren’t going to die. Everyone dies. You know that….Not us, she said. We’re going to live.