Book Lovers
最新书摘:
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清弥2023-03-28This, I think, is what it is to dream, and I finally understand why Mom could never give it up, why my authors can’t give it up, and I’m happy for them, because this wanting, it feels good, like a bruise you need to press on, a reminder that there are things in life so valuable that you must risk the pain of losing them for the joy of briefly having them.
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清弥2023-03-28What’s the weirdest thing you miss about the city? I text Charlie. He writes back, It used to be having access to a Dunkin’ Donuts within three blocks at all times. I smile at my phone. The DD-to-person ratio there has to be like one to five. What else? I miss Eataly, he says, but I wouldn’t call it weird. If you didn’t miss Eataly, we could never speak again. Because you’d be in prison, where you’d belong.
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清弥2023-03-28“Love?” She repeats the word in a small voice. I look back toward the cottage, gleaming in the sun, surrounded by lazily twirling butterflies. “Hypothetically.” I lie to my sister. She lets me.
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清弥2023-03-28How a person can know there’s something worth saying but have no concept of what exactly that is. I’m not thinking in words.
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清弥2023-03-28From the outside, Shepherd and I still form that perfect, heart-squeezing scene, but I have that feeling of outsideness again. Like it’s not really me, here in Shepherd’s arms. Or like I’m still on the wrong side of the window.
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清弥2023-03-28“That’s what I love about New York.”...“You’re never the weirdest person in the room.” “There’s always that person in silver body paint,” I agree, “who asks for donations to repair his UFO.” “He’s my Q train favorite,” Charlie says. My skin warms. I wonder how many times we’ve passed each other in our city of millions. “I like that you’re anonymous there,” he continues. “You’re whoever you decide to be. In places like this, you never shake off what people first thought about you.”
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清弥2023-03-28I cup my hands around my eyes, trying to see through the glare on the glass door.
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清弥2023-03-28As different as we are, the second we start unpacking, it could not be more obvious that we’re cut from the same cloth.