I had a dream about a motorcycle," said harry, remembering suddenly. "it was flying." uncle vernon nearly crashed into the car in front. He turned right around in his seat and yelled at harry, his face like a gigantic beet with a mustache: "motorcycles don't fly!" dudley and piers sniggered. "i know they don't," said harry. "it was only a dream.
Very quietly, i heard a voice in my ear.It said, in a weird, cheesy, right-out-of-one-of-my-mother's-novels way, "ah. Wemeet again." i turned my head, just slightly, and right there, practically on top of me, was theguy from the car dealership. He was wearing a red mountain fresh detergent t-shirt - not just fresh: mountain fresh! - it proclaimed, and was smiling at me. "oh,god," i said. "no, it's dexter.
But i've been traveling on a boat and a plane, in a car on a bike with a bus and a train. Traveling there, traveling here, everywhere in every gear. But oh lord we pay the price, with the spin of the wheel with the roll of the dice. Ah yeah you pay your fare. And if you don't know where you're going, any road will take you there.
He had a tremendous propensity for getting lost when driving. This was largely because of his method of zen navigation, which was simply to find any car that looked as if it knew where it was going and follow it. The results were more often surprising than successful, but he felt it was worth it for the sake of the few occasions when it was both.
Early evening traffic was beginning to clog the avenue with cars. The sun slanted down behind him. Harry glanced at the drivers of the cars. They seemed unhappy. The world was unhappy. People were in the dark. People were terrified and disappointed. People were caught in traps. People were defensive and frantic. They felt as if their lives were being wasted. And they were right.
In the world i see you are stalking elk through the damp canyon forests around the ruins of rock feller center. You'll wear leather clothes that will last you the rest of your life. You'll climb the wrist-thick kudzu vines that wrap the sears towers. And when you look down, you'll see tiny figures pounding corn, laying stripes of venison on the empty car pool lane of some abandoned superhighways.
I gave him a smile that i hoped was as dazzling as one of his. "i realized i'm in love." marcus, startled, looked around as though he expected to see my object d'amour in the car with us. "and you just realized this? did you just have some sort of vision?" "didn't need to," i said, thinking of wolfe's ill-fated trip to the orkneys. "it's always been right in front of me.
Of course, in los angeles, everything is based on driving, even the killings. in new york, most people don't have cars, so if you want to kill a person, you have to take the subway to their house. and sometimes on the way, the train is delayed and you get impatient, so you have to kill someone on the subway. that's why there are so many subway murders; no one has a car.