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01.01.2011 um 22:46 Uhr

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31.12.2010 um 22:47 Uhr

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@@@@@On the highways the headlights lance a silver tunnel through the foliage overhead And he has a girl friend, a great catch, the young beauty at this summer colonyMiss Sally Tendecker of Lake Shore Drive, and the inescapable connotations to come of Christmas holidays, and fur coats, perfume, and college dances in the hue-titled rooms of the big hotels Bob, you drive faster than anybody I know, you're going to kill yourself one of these daysHe's slow at speech with women yet, absorbed for the instant in negotiating the turnHis Buick swings out wide to the left, resists, struggles against going to the right, and then straightens from the turnThere had been panic for a second, and then relief, exultation as he goes streaming down the straightaway I declare you're a wild man, Bob Hearn What goes on in your head, Bob? He parks the car off the highway, turns to her with a sudden abrupt outpouring of speechI don't know, Sally, sometimes I thinkbut that isn't true, I just get all worked up, and I stew around, and I don't want to do anything, I'm going to Harvard just 'cause my father said something about Yale, and I don't know, there's things, there's something else, I can't put my finger on it, I don't want to be pushed, I don't knowOh, you're a crazy boy, Bob, I guess that's why all we girls love you You love me? Just listen to him talkWhy, of course I do, BobbyAcross from him on the leather seat cushions, her perfume is a little too strong, a little too mature for a girl of seventeenAnd he senses the truth beneath her banter, moves over to kiss her with his heart beatingOnly back of it is the forecast of dates at all the holidays, of college weekends, and the identification with this summer resort, and the green lawns in the suburbs, and the conversations with his father's friends, the big wedding You know I can't plan on anything if I'm going to be a doctor, because you know eight years, ten years, it's a long time Bob Hearn, you're conceitedWhat do you think I care? You're too conceited, that's all Now, son, now that you're going away to college, there's some things I want to be talking to you about, we don't get much of a chance to say much to each other but, what the hell, we're pretty good buddies I always like to think, and now that you're going to college, just remember that you can always depend on meThere's gonna be some women, what the hell, you wouldn't be my son if there weren't, not since I been married of course -- a patent lie which both of them ignore -- but if you get in any trouble you can always depend on me, what the hell, my old man used to tell me you get in any trouble with any of the mill girls, you just let me know -- the embarrassing ambiguity of the grandfather who has been sometimes a farmer, sometimes a factory owner -- so that goes for you too, Bob, and remember it's always easier, always more natural to buy a woman off than to get in any alliances with her, so you just let me know, letter marked personal is okay And as for being a doctor, well, that's okay, we got lots of friends here, we can set you up in a decent practice, buy into some old quack who's ready to retire I want to do researchListen, Bobbo, there isn't a man you know, not one of our acquaintances who can't buy and sell a carload of research men, that's just some damn fool idea you picked up somewhere, and you're gonna change your mind, I can tell you that right no

30.12.2010 um 22:54 Uhr

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29.12.2010 um 22:46 Uhr

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@@@@@Bernardine gave it to us ?He was the old Frenchman?? ?Let?s not talk about him, okay? At least not for a while ?All right, we won?t talk about himStill, he mentioned Les Capucines?what did he mean?? ?It?s our way outThere?s a car waiting for me in the boulevard des CapucinesThat?s what he was telling meLet?s go!? They raced south out of Paris in the nondescript Peugeot, taking the Barbizon highway to Vilieneuve-StMarie sat close to her husband, their bodies touching, her hand clutching his armShe was, however, sickeningly aware that the warmth she intended was not returned in equal measureOnly a part of the intense man behind the wheel was her David; the rest of him was Jason Bourne and he was now in command ?For God?s sake, talk to me!? she criedWhy did you come to Paris?? ?Good Christ!? exploded Marie?To find you, to help you!? ?I?m sure you thought it was right ?That voice again,? protested Marie?That goddamned disembodied tone of voice! Who the hell do you think you are to make that judgment? God? To put it bluntly?no, not bluntly, but brutally?there are things you have trouble remembering, my darling ?Not about Paris,? objected Jason?I remember everything about Paris ?Your friend Bernardine didn?t think so! He told me you never would have chosen the Meurice if you did ?What?? Bourne briefly, harshly glanced at his wifeWhy did you choose?and you did choose?the Meurice?? ?I don?t know It?s a hotel; the name just came to meWhat happened years ago at the Meurice?right outside the Meurice?? ?I?I know something happenedYou?? ?Yes, my love, meI stayed there under a false name and you came to meet me, and we walked to the newsstand on the corner, where in one horrible moment we both knew my life could never be the same again?with you or without you ?Oh, Jesus, I forgot! The newspapers?your photograph on all the front pag

28.12.2010 um 22:46 Uhr

@@@@@ "No more messages," the phone robot 535

@@@@@ "No more messages," the phone robot said"The message tape is full I stood staring down at the machine, thought of erasing the tape, then decided to save it and play it for WiremanI undressed, brushed my teeth, and went to bedI lay in the dark, feeling the soft throb of my head, while below me the shells whispered the last thing she'd said over and over: My father was a skin diver 8 - Family Portrait i Things slowed down for awhileSometimes that happensThe pot boils, and then, just before it can boil over, some hand - God, fate, maybe plain coincidence - lowers the heatI mentioned this once to Wireman and he said life is like Friday on 337 a soap operaIt gives you the illusion that everything is going to wrap up, and then the same old shit starts up on Monday I thought he'd go with me to see a doctor and we'd find out what was wrong with himI thought he'd tell me why he'd shot himself in the head and how a man survives that sort of thingThe answer seemed to be, "With seizures and a lot of trouble reading the fine print Maybe he'd even be able to tell me why his employer had a bee in her bonnet about keeping Ilse off the islandAnd the capper: I'd decide on what came next in the life of Edgar Freemantle, the Great American Primitive None of those things actually happened, at least for awhileLife does produce changes, and the end results are sometimes explosive, but in soap operas and in real life, big bangs often have a long fuse Wireman did agree to go see a doctor with me and "get his head examined," but not until March February was too busy, he saidWinter residents - what Wireman called "the monthlies," as if they were menstrual periods instead of tenants - would start moving into all the Eastlake properties the 338 coming weekendThe first snowbirds to arrive would be the ones Wireman liked leastThese were the Godfreys from Rhode Island, known to Wireman (and hence to me) as Joe and Rita Mean DogThey came for ten weeks every winter and stayed in the house closest to the Eastlake estateThe signs warning of their Rotties and their Pit Bull were out; Ilse and I had seen themWireman said Joe Mean Dog was an ex-Green Beret, in a tone of voice which seemed to indicate that explained everyth