and in those days I played chicken with life and roulette with oblivion. I ducked under the lowered crossing signals to race the oncoming train across the tracks, and when I reached the other side, I turned and saw a girl I knew from school jumping after me.
The pond cradles them in its mouth like teeth. The statues. Cracked and shattered. They’re reskinned and restitched with moss and algae.
The gourmand had eaten everything. Former restaurant reviewer for the local newspaper, he was as familiar with sautéed crickets as with eel bladders and haggis.
Was a big man and unafraid. Six foot five, two ninety seven–he felt as though he was invulnerable. He would do it all–jump out of an airplane, roller coasters galore, cliff diving, spelunking, guns, motorcycles, hand gliding, drink anyone under the table.
It was raining and he was sad and tall. He was waiting for the Facebook woman to appear, it was all arranged.