There was a game they liked to play when they were midway in life’s journey, but still healthy, still lustful and keen.
It was: Who could get you to cry in the fewest words?
Of course, some of the best effects were made when everyone was drunk.
He remembered this girl had a good one once.
The last whale swam deeper…
But one of the best was a line from Chekhov’s Three Sisters.
You mean, I’m being left behind?
He couldn’t remember many others. They hadn’t played the game in years.
“
The breeder of the black German shepherds said her kennel was in Sedona, a place known far and wide for its good vibrations, its harmonic integrity. But the kennel was actually in Jerome, thirty miles away, an unnerving ghost town set above a vast pit from which copper ore had been extracted. The largest building in Jerome was the old sanatorium, now derelict. The town’s historian insisted that it had served all the population in the town’s heyday, not just the diseased and troubled, and that babies had even been born there.
In any case, the dog coming from Jerome rather than Sedona was telling, people thought.
Another something that could be the basis of the dog’s behavior was the fact that her mistress always wore sunglasses, day and night. Like everybody else, the dog never got to see her eyes. When the woman had people over, she placed a big bowl of sunglasses outside the front door and everyone put on a pair before entering. It was easier than locking the dog in the bedroom.
“
Joy Williams | “Noche”