And though the coldness I have always felt leaves me, the numbness doesn’t and probably never will. this relationship will probably lead to nothing… this didn’t change anything. I imagine her smelling clean, like tea.
But this road doesn’t go anywhere,” I told him. “That doesn’t matter.” “What does?” I asked, after a little while. “Just that we’re on it, dude,” he said.
And,” Price adds, smiling, “if another round of Bellinis comes within a twenty-foot radius of our table we are going to set the maitre d’ on fire. So you know, warn him.
At Columbus Circle, a juggler wearing a trench cloak and top hat, who is usually at this location afternoons and who calls himself Stretch Man, performs in front of a small, uninterested crowd; though I smell prey, and he seems worthy of my wrath.
Hello, Halberstam,” Owen says, walking by. Hello, Owen,” I say, admiring the way he’s styled and slicked back his hair, with a part so even and sharp it…
Hip,” I murmur, remembering last night, how I lost it completely in a stall at Nell’s—my mouth foaming, all I could think about were insects, lots of insects, and running at pigeons, foaming at the mouth and running at pigeons.
Devastates me and I make a mental note to ask him where he purchases his hair-care products, which kind of mousse he uses, my final guesses after mulling over the possibilities being Ten-X.
I locked in on the smug feeling of superiority that married couples give off and that permeated the air – the shared assumptions, the sweet and contented apathy, it all lingered everywhere – despite the absence in the room of anyone single at which to aim this.
