But We Can't Go Back. We Can

Gemma~was He Really Looking At Me That Way? Kartik~what Way? Gemma~like A Piece Of Ripe Fruit? Katrik~you'd Best Be On Your Guard With Him.

I Feel Like I Swallowed A Magritte. Like On The Inside, I'm Made Of Clouds And Floating Eyes, Green Apples, And Slowly Rising Men In Bowler Hats.

Pastoralia By George Saunders. Possibly My Favorite Book. Its One Of The Weirdest Books Ive Ever Read. If Monty Python And Thomas Pynchon Had A Love Child, And It Was Raised By Frank Zappa On A Weird Commune, That Would Be This Book.

Gemma, You See How It Is. They've Planned Our Entire Lives, From What We Shall Wear To Whom We Shall Marry And Where We Shall Live. It's One Lump Of Sugar In Your Tea Whether You Like It Or Not And You'd Best Smile Even If You're Dying Deep Inside. We're Like Pretty Horses, And Just As On Horses, They Mean To Put Blinders On Us So We Can't Look Left Or Right But Only Straight Ahead Where They Would Lead. Please, Please, Please, Gemma, Let's Not Die Inside Before We Have To.

In This Man’s Smile Was All The Unfairness Of The World In Its Thuggish Seduction. “just Come With Me. We’ll Take Care Of You.” “no, You Won’t.” Taylor Stroked The Man’s Cheek. She Reached Her Arms Up To Cradle The Back Of His Head And, With The Skill Of A Champion, She Broke His Neck. Then She Dragged Him Into The Bushes, Took His Gun And Walkie-talkie, And Kept Moving.