’ ‘Comment? How will it serve you to kill me?’ ‘I do not need to kill you. ’ ‘Like this?’ ‘Parfait. ’ ‘Lord, man, it’s only a scratch!’ Suddenly Gerald snapped his fingers. “It was a bad day for me,” he said, speaking slowly and painfully. There was a mad musician, seemingly rapt in admiration of the notes he was extracting from a child's violin. Remember, in your story—look at it, scattered everywhere!—that line? We arrive at true happiness only through labyrinths of misery. That was the glorious if bewildering truth. He lowered himself onto her and entered her slowly, an inch at a time. 1. He just wants to get laid.
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