Dagmar never much expressed a view on anything. As an illegal, it was in her own best interest not ever to be noticed. But that wasn’t the real reason she kept to herself.
Dagmar’s real reason was that she was afraid.
“You have to understand I am afraid. That is why I have come to this place,” she once said, pronouncing each syllable precisely, to Rayleen.
“Afraid of what, pet?”
“Of everything.”love in the fourth dimension
Her faces and moods, like her wardrobe, changed weekly, if not daily. Flared jeans for one date, an Armani suit jacket for the next; a D&G dress for one, then Nikes and slacks for another. And when she talked to people from different backgrounds, although she did not like to admit this to herself, her market research experience helped in discussing the things they liked. She knew, for example, that E34's used Ecover washing powder and supported Greenpeace, and that F41's liked Star Trek: the Next Generation and read Harry Potter even though they didn't have kids. It wasn't that she was two faced; if anything she was 82 faced, or 34 four faced, that being the number of lovers she had in her twenties, as was fairly normal for people of her type at this point in time.the 82 types of person in the world
He stayed off work for the rest of the week. By Friday, his wife could no longer disguise her alarm.
He could keep nothing down, and had trouble getting anything in. Spoonfuls of soup were sour in his mouth, and he had to spit them back into the bowl. He choked on more generous fare. He kept secret from his wife the strange protrusion he could feel in the centre of his gut, an oval of hard, obdurate matter, like a thickened column of muscle. Taking it in both hands, he could move the growth, or the swelling, whatever it was, first from one side then to the other before it met any internal resistance.regression