She almost escaped. He tackled her, pulled her down again, crushed her in his big arms, buried his eyes his mouth his face in the fragrance of her hair, bit her on the nape of the neck, drawing blood, nibbled on the lobe of her ear... "Fucking fat Jewish bitch." "You red-neck honky uncircumcised swine of a goy." Fucking bitch." "High school dropout. Verbal paraplegic. Unemployed veteran." "I want it." "No good at Scrabble." "Right now!" "All right. So all right." But she was on top. "Your head's a pile of cowshit, you know. You don't care. Of course not. All right. Okay. Where is it? Can't find it. This? You mean this? Hello, Mom, is that you? This is Sylvia. Yeah. Listen, Mom, I won't be able to make it for Chanukah. Yeah, that's what I said. Well, because my boyfriend - remember Ichabod Ignatz? - he blew up the airport. He's some kind of a - oooh! - a nut..."
He plunged into her. She ingulfed him. The winds wailed through the yellow pines, the aspens shivered, leaves dancing with a sound like many minor waterfalls. The discreet chatter of little birds, the barking of a gray fox, the swish of tires on the distant paved road, all such normal, sane, moderate sounds were swept away over the edge of the world, lost in the rush.
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Anna Valenn x Fan de Séries / VO |
"I mean those people like Love and the Governor got no conscience. They'd sell their own mothers to Exxon and Peabody Coal if they thought there was money in it; have the old ladies rendered down for the oil. Them's the kind of folks we got runnin' this state, honey: Christians; my kind of folks."
"Just won't let 'em" Hayduke mumbles. "No, I won't."