Wednesday, March 11, 2009

but still, I do have an opinion

Natasya calculated the annual project fees. She went to see Ruud. With a benignly tolerant smile he made certain adjustments concerned with aspects of the world that she could not be expected to know and that it delighted him to inform her of.

While this was going on, Ruud took a phone call from Iain back at base. A jokey, expert, cryptic conversation took place, which included some twinkling eyes when he made mischievous allusion to his new colleague. It was a performance for her benefit. He hugely enjoyed it; so far, she was making a good impression.

Later that evening, someone flitted mysteriously through the dusky garden. Her face was obscured by a mantequilla, although this made her feel greasy.

Biron touched the felted edge of his hat-brim. Play up, old chap. The ragged spectacle of the mahonia-winged horse unsettled him. It reminded him of the dream of seeing young Terry chatting with his shirt off after surgery and all his innards gone, just a spine and a sort of ragged knot of red bootlaces where his belly button used to be.

See Amid the Winter Snow


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