And that, I thought, will be that. The Utah thing was poorly thought-out but
now, she’ll have classes and meet fascinating people and she’ll love it. She’ll call
every day, then every week. And then she’ll mention a guy. A friend, she’ll say.
And then she’ll call once a month, only visit twice a semester and then you’ll get
the call and she’ll say she’s sorry, she’s met someone, he’s an English major and
plays lacrosse or some shit. And she will have grown up. She’ll get some job right
out of school in some other city and she’ll never, ever come back here.
And that’s how it should be. She’ll be out of my orbit, out of my sphere of
concern, a poor target for anyone or any thing that wants to get to me. She’ll be
safe. This time.
John Dies at the End
Tremendo libro, totalmente del carajo.
Y por alguna razón, este párrafo me describe muchísimo.