Saturday, August 10, 2013

the last book I ever read (In Persuasion Nation by George Saunders, excerpt six)

from In Persuasion Nation by George Saunders:

The night of the Latvians I was out with Cleo from Vehicles. We went parking, watched some visiting Warthogs practice their night-firing. Things heated up. She had a room on the side of a house, wobbly wooden stairs leading up. Did I call, say I’d be late, say I might not be back at all? No I did not. Next morning I came home, found the house taped off. For the body locations, the cops didn’t use chalk. There was just a piece of loose-lead on the stairs labeled “Deceased Female” and one on the kitchen floor labeled “Deceased Male.”

I tell myself: If I’d been home, I’d be dead too. The Latvians had guns. They came in quick, on crack, so whacked-out they forget to steal anything.

Still, Mom’s sciatica was acting up. She’d just had two teeth pulled. At the end, on the steps, on her back, she kept calling my name, as in: Where is he? Did they get him too? Next day, on the landing, I found the little cotton swab the dentist had left in her mouth.

So if they want me home right after work, I’m home right after work.

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