 Charles
0 photos in album
| No connections between You and Charles |
|
0 Friends
Warning: array_merge() [function.array-merge]: Argument #1 is not an array in /homepages/45/d152645047/htdocs/blog/includes/functions.php on line 860
Warning: array_merge() [function.array-merge]: Argument #2 is not an array in /homepages/45/d152645047/htdocs/blog/includes/functions.php on line 860
Warning: array_merge() [function.array-merge]: Argument #3 is not an array in /homepages/45/d152645047/htdocs/blog/includes/functions.php on line 860
Warning: array_merge() [function.array-merge]: Argument #4 is not an array in /homepages/45/d152645047/htdocs/blog/includes/functions.php on line 860
0 in Network
Member since 05/17/2010
Updated 05/17/2010 |
|
| "Yeah, I'll give him to you, the poor sonofabitch... |
06-11-2010 |
|
| "Yeah, I'll give him to you, the poor sonofabitch Mantelli flipped through a few sheets of paper, ran his finger down a column of names, and underlined one of them with his nail"His name's Roth, and his MOS is clerkYou'll probably make a hell of a rifleman out of him
The replacements remained on the beach for another day or twoThe evening after Croft had talked to Captain Mantelli, Roth walked forlornly through the replacement bivouacThe man with whom he was bunking, a big good-natured farm boy, was still over at another tent with his friends, and Roth didn't want to join themHe had gone along the previous night and, as it usually happened, he had felt left out of thingsHis bunkmate and his chanel wallet purse bunkmate's friends were all young, probably just out of high school, and they laughed a lot at stupid jokes and wrestled with each other and sworeHe never knew what to say to themRoth felt a familiar wistful urge for somebody he could talk to seriouslyHe realized again there wasn't anyone he knew well among the replacements -- all the men with whom he had come overseas had been separated from him at the last replacement depotEven then, it wasn't as if they had anything special about themThey were all stupid, Roth thoughtAll they could think about was getting women
He stared gloomily at the pup tents scattered over the sandIn a day or two he would be sent up to his new platoon, and the thought gave replica pasha cartier him no joyA rifleman now! It was such a dirty trickAt least, if they hadn't told him he was going to be a clerkAll the Army wanted you for was cannon fodderThey even made riflemen out of men like himself, fathers, with poor healthHe was qualified for other things, a college graduate, familiar with office workBut try and explain it to the Army
He passed a tent where a soldier was pounding some stakes into the sandRoth paused, and then recognized the manIt was Goldstein, one of the soldiers who had been assigned with him to the reconnaissance platoon"Hello," Roth said, "you're all occupied, I see
Goldstein looked upHe was a man of about twenty-seven with very blond hair and friendly serious blue chanel classic bags eyesHe stared intently at Roth as if he were nearsighted, his eyes bulging slightlyThen he smiled with a great deal of warmth, cocking his head forwardBecause of this and the staring concentration of his eyes he gave an immediate impression of great sincerity"I'm just fixing my tent," Goldstein said now"I was thinking and thinking about it today, and I finally decided what the trouble wasThe Army never designed tent pins to be used in sand He smiled enthusiastically"So I cut some branches off a bush, and I'm making stakes out of them nowI bet it'll hold up in any kind of a wind Goldstein's speech was always earnest but a little breathless as if he were afraid of being interruptedExcept for the coco chanel designer unexpectedly sad lines which ran from his nose to the corners of his mouth, he would have looked like a boy
"That's quite an idea," Roth saidHe couldn't think of anything to add, and he hesitated for a moment, and then sat down on the sandGoldstein kept working, humming to himself"What do you think of our assignment?" he asked"It's what I expected Roth was a small man with an oddly hunched back and long armsEverything about him seemed to droop; he had a long dejected nose and pouches under his eyes; his shoulders slumped forwardHis hair was clipped very short and it accentuated his large ears"No, I don't care for our assignment," he repeated a little pompouslyAltogether, Roth looked like a frail chanel logo necklace mournful |
| By: |
Add A Comment | Comments (0) |
|
| |
| Harvard, New York Extension, as he terms it, and... |
06-10-2010 |
|
| Harvard, New York Extension, as he terms it, and a room and kitchenette in the East SixtiesOh, I'm just a literary con man, he will say
I can't tell you how I've slaved over the thing, the lady historical novelist says to himI was so worried about the motivations of Julia, such an elusive bitch, but I think I achieved the effect I hungered for in her, the one who worries me, however, is Randall Clandeborn
Yes, Miss Helledell, two more of the same, waiterHe lights a cigarette, revolving slowly in the leather arc of their round boothYou were saying, Miss Helledell?
Do you think Randall comes across?
Randall Clandeborn, mmm(Now which one was he?) Ay, yes, I think he's successful on the whole, but perhaps you need a little sharper definition on himWe can discuss that when we get back to the office(After the drinks he will have a headache To be frank, Miss bolsas prada Helledell, I'm not really worried about your characters, I know they'll come across
Do you think so, MrHearn? Your opinion means an awful lot to me
Oh, yes, it's a very successful job
And George Andrew Johannesson, how is he?
Well, to tell you the truth, Miss Helledell, I should prefer to discuss it when we've got the manuscript between usI remember the characters perfectly but I'm awfully bad on namesIt's one of my faults for which you'll have to forgive me
And there is always the game of mentally plucking, one by one, all the feathers in her hat
Or the young serious novelist, not quite good enough, he has decidedGodfrey, I think you've got a damn good book there and it's a damn shame that publishing exigencies being what they are, this is not quite the season, perhaps in thirty-six, it would have been a classic if it had come out in the twenties, George, for silver chanel example, liked it a hell of a lot
Yeah, I understand, but still it seems to me you could take a chance, after all, that crap you put out, I understand, bread and butter, but a serious book is a publisher's only excuse for being
Sure, it's a damn shameSipping his drink mournfullyYou know if you intend to do another book we're awfully interested in it
The weekends in the summer:
You have to talk to Carnes, what a delicious humorI don't mean he's quaint or anything like that, he's a man in his own right of course that's perfectly apparent, but as a gardener he's a findEven the natives consider him one apart, with that Lancashire accent of his -- If i' twere rainin' soup, there Ay'd be stahndin' with a fork in me hand, his hostess says, putting down her drink
And across the porch the gossip is easily overheardI can't tell you what a bitch she is, the woman is gucci bangle watch incredibleWhen she went out on tour she hand-picked her leading man, purely by the genital heft, so to speak, and when he started fooling around with poor little Judy, damn if Beroma didn't give a party to which she invited everyone but little Judy and the corpus delicti
In the office in the middle of the afternoon: He's coming up today, Hearn, he would, we're all invitedEllison has suggested that our attendance is requested
Get up near him when he's had five or sixHe says the most amazing thingsAnd talk to his wife, the new one, she's fantastic
In a bar with a Harvard contemporary:
Hearn, you have no idea what it's like working on SpaceThat man! He's hideous, he's a FascistThe writers he's got up there, the talent, all grubbing away, afraid to leave 'cause it's two hundred a week, and they don't know what they can do on their ownI tell you my stomach turns every time I white chloe bag see them grind out the particular brand of swill at which he's so trickyJabbing out a cigaretteWhat are you in this racket for?
I'm playing it for the laughs
Sure you're not trying to be a writer from the wrong end?
No, I'm not writer, I don't have a deep enough itch
Jesus, there's a million who haveI don't know anybody who's worth a goddam
Who does?
Get potted, get screwed, and get up in the morning, somehow
And the women:
Hearn, she says, in her deep husky voice, you're a shell, you're nothing but a goddam shellAfter you've had fifty thousand of us up here, you'll probably cut it off and hang it up to dryYou learned an acceptable wiggle somewhere along the line and you think that's all you need to get byYou've got a faeces complex, haven't you, you can't stand being touchedYou get me so goddam mad, a million miles away, aren't you, nothing ever hits chloe paddington handbag yo |
| By: |
Add A Comment | Comments (0) |
|
| |
| The war on the other side of the mountain was... |
06-09-2010 |
|
| The war on the other side of the mountain was remote at this moment
Behind him Mount Anaka bored into his back as if it were a human thingHe turned around and stared at it soberly, feeling again the crude inarticulate thrill it always gave himHe was going to climb it; he swore it to himself
But all around him he could feel the pressure of the menHe knew that none of them liked him, and he hardly cared, but now they hated him and he could feel it as almost a leaden oppression in the air
And they had to get upIf they failed, then the thing he had done with Hearn was wrong, and he had been bucking the Army, simply disobeying an orderHe would have to carry the platoon virtually on his back and it was going to be very difficultHe spat, and slit the end off a cardboard K rationAs with everything else, he did this neatly, expertly
Late into the afternoon Ridges and Goldstein struggled along with WilsonThey moved at a torturously fendi spy slow pace, toting him forward for ten yards or at most fifteen before they set him downAn ant traveling in a straight line would have gone literally as fastThey did not think of quitting or continuing, they hardly ever listened to Wilson's ramblings, there was nothing in all the heat and effort but the dumb imperative to carry him onThey did not talk, they were exhausted beyond speech, they only shambled forward like blind men crossing a strange and terrifying streetTheir fatigue had cut through so many levels, had blunted finally so many of their senses that they were reduced to the lowest common denominator of their existenceCarrying him was the only reality they knew
And so for hours they labored forward, ready to collapse at any moment, but somehow never quite falling unconsciousToward the end they had only a dumb wonder that they could abuse their bodies so mightily and have them still function
Wilson fell into a fever chanel jumbo flap bag and drifted along in a heavy swell of fogThe jolting of the litter became dull and leaden, almost pleasantThe few words he heard, the hoarse panting communications between Ridges and Goldstein, the sound of his own voice, indeed all sensations entered his head quite separately like doors opening into individual closetsHis senses were exceptionally vivid, he felt every spasm of their muscles in the tremors of the litter, and obversely the pains of his wound seemed remote, something that came to him outside the envelope of his bodyBut one thing had deserted himHe was completely passive, blissfully tired, and it took him minutes to decide to ask for anything, or to bring his hand up to his forehead to chase an insectAnd when he did, his fingers remained motionless on his face for almost as long before he dropped his arm again
He rambled on about anything that came into his mind, talking for minutes at a time, his voice rasping sacs hermes weakly or rising to a shout without any controlAnd the men carrying him listened without understanding the meaning of his words or even caring
"They was woman in Kansas when Ah was out at Riley, she used to take me up and live wi' me jus' as if Ah was her husbandAh never even stayed in the goddam barracks, Ah jus' use' to tell 'em mah wife was in townThat woman use' to cook for me and mend mah uniforms and starch 'em nice as you please, they wa'n't a damn thing she wouldn' do for me"Ah gotta picture of her Ah'd like to show ya if you jus' wait a minute His hand would fumble at his pocket, then forget about it"Figgered Ah wasn't married and Ah never set her right, Ah figgered Ah might even shack up with her after the waw, and what was the goddam sense of jus' losin' a good woman, Ah never could see the point to thatAh jus' tole her Ah was a collidge gradjit, and she believe' meGoddam women'll believe any damn thing if en you just cheap chanel purses keep layin' 'em regular He sighed, coughed feebly, a little blood inching once more out of his mouthIt stirred a few ripples of fear in him, and he shook his headHe was weary and yet he couldn't give up"They get me back damn doctors'll fix me up good as newThe bullet had whanged into his flesh with incredible force and he had bled at intervals for a day and a half, had been shocked and jolted on the litter, had undergone the torments of his woundBut it never occurred to him to quitThere were so many things he wanted to do
"Ah tell you men Ah ain't sayin' screwin' a nigger is right thing to do, but Ah git a little tempted ever' now and thenThey was a nigger gal use' to pass mah pappy's house almost ev' day, an' Ah can still see way her ass wiggle
He roused himself almost on his elbow, looked at Ridges evenly for a moment
"Eveh screw any nigger stuff?" he asked him
Ridges stopped, set the stretcher downFor once he had heard chanel tote Wils |
| By: |
Add A Comment | Comments (0) |
|
| |
| (The sense of minor loss and pleasurable... |
06-08-2010 |
|
| (The sense of minor loss and pleasurable self-pity as he thinks of leaving her But I tell ya I ain't gonna end up living the kind of life my old man didI ain't gonna sweat out my guts in the mine
You're going to do a lot of things, Red(He breathes the sweet-laden night air and smells the earthThe knowledge of strength, the taunt at the surrounding hills You know, I'll tell ya something, I don't believe in God
You don't mean that, Red!
(Underneath the blanket his father's body had been crushed almost flat Yeah, that's right, I just don't believe in God
Sometimes I don't either, Agnes says
Yeah, I can talk kelly hermes bags to you, you understand
Only you want to go away(There is the other knowledgeHer body is young and strong and he knows the smell of her breasts, which are like powdered infant-flesh, but all the women turn to cordwood in the town You take that guy Joe Mackey who got Alice with a kid and left her, my own sister, but I tell ya I don't blame himYou got to see that, Agnes
Yeah, that's rightIt's praise to the eighteen-year-old
Of course you can always depend on the mines to shut down
It's good for a week; there's hunting for jack rabbit and a ball game or two, but it loses its edgeThere's more time to be in the chanel tote house, and it's all bedrooms except for the kitchenHis kid brothers are always making noises, and Alice is sullen as she nurses her bastardWhen he was working it was easier, but now he's with them all the time
I'm getting out of this town, he says at last
What? No, by God, no, his mother says(A short squat woman who has never lost her Swedish accent
I can't take it any more, I'm gonna rot my life away, Eric's old enough to work in the mines if they ever open
You're not going to tell me! he shoutsWhat the hell does a man get out of it, some food for his belly?
Soon Eric works in the mines
He slaps his cup louis vuitton gm bag against the saucerTo hell with that, get tied down with a marriageThe idea is not wholly unpleasant, and he rejects it furiously I'm getting out of here, I ain't gonna waste my life in back of a drill, waiting for a goddam tunnel to collapse on me
His sister comes into the kitchenYou lousy kid, you're only eighteen, where do you talk of getting away?
Stay out of this, he shouts
I'm not going to stay out, it's my business more than ma'sThat's all you men are good for, you get us in trouble and then you skip outWell, you can't do it! she screams
What's the matter? There'll always be some grub for ya
Maybe I classic chanel quilted bag want to get out, maybe I'm sick to death of hanging around here without a man who'll marry me
That was your lookoutYou're not going to stop me, goddammit
You're just like that louse that skipped out on me, if there's anything that's worthless it's a man who won't stick around to face the music
(Trembling) And if I'd been Joe Mackey I'da skipped out on ya tooThat was the smartest thing he ever did
Take sides against your sister
What the hell was in it for him, he had all the good out of youTears of anger and guilt form in his eyesHe blinks them back, and glares at herIt's bad thing when family fights like chloe bags paddington animals |
| By: |
Add A Comment | Comments (0) |
|
| |
| Yet, A man's a damn fool if he don't follow... |
06-07-2010 |
|
| Yet, A man's a damn fool if he don't follow something through, he told himself"Anything you're gonna do about it, Red?"
This was very fundamental for ValsenCroft had to be halted sometime, he told himself, or he'd run over them completelyBack of his anger and his apprehension, he felt a certain necessity
They continued to watch each other for perhaps a second, but the second was broken into many units of alertness, of decisions made and broken to launch the first blowAnd then Hearn interrupted them, pushed them apart roughly"Break it up, are you men crazy?" Not more than five seconds had elapsed since Croft had killed the bird, and he hermes borse had crossed from the other side of the hollow"What's happened here, what's going on?"
They moved apart slowly, sullenly"Not a damn thing, Lootenant," Red saidTo himself, he thought, I'll be fugged if I need a goddam looey to help meHe was feeling proud and relieved, and yet in another sense he was uneasy that the outcome was postponed
"Who started all this?" Hearn was demanding
Ridges spoke up, "He didn't have no call to kill that little ol' birdHe jus' stopped up and took it outen Roth's hand, and jus' killed it
"Is that true?"
Croft was uncertain how to answerHearn's voice angered him
Hearn hesitated, staring at CroftThen he grinned, fendi spy bags slightly conscious of how much he was enjoying this moment"All right, let's cut this out," he told them"If you have to fight, don't fight with noncoms Their eyes had turned bitterFor a moment Hearn sensed the impulses that had made Croft kill the birdHe turned to him, staring down into the emotionless glitter of Croft's eyes"You happen to be wrong, SergeantSuppose you apologize to Roth
Croft looked at him in disbeliefHe took several deep breaths"Come on, Sergeant, apologize
If Croft had been holding a rifle in his hand, he might have shot Hearn at this instantThat would have been automaticBut to deliberate, and then disobey him was in rolex chain another categoryHe knew he had to complyIf he didn't, the platoon would fall apartFor two years he had molded it, for two years his discipline had not relaxed, and one breach like this might destroy everything he had doneIt was the nearest thing to a moral code in himWithout looking at Hearn, he paced over to Roth and stared at him, the corner of his mouth twitching"I'm sorry," he blurted, the unaccustomed words dropped leadenly from his tongueHe felt as if his flesh were crawling with vermin
"All right, that chalks it off," Hearn saidHe had some idea of how he had provoked Croft, and was amused by it faintlyCummings had probably felt the same chanel j12 watches way when he had obeyed the order to pick up the cigarette buttAbruptly, Hearn was disgusted with himself
"Let's have all the platoon here, except the guards," he called out
The rest of the men shuffled over"We've decided to send Sergeant Brown and Corporal Stanley and Goldstein and Ridges back with WilsonYou want to make any changes, Sergeant?"
Croft stared at ValsenHe was unable to think; he worked at the idea as if wrestling with pillowsIt would be better to get rid of Valsen now, and yet he couldn'tBy coincidence, two of the other men who had opposed him were going on the litter detailIf he sent Red, the men would think he was afraid sacs hermes of |
| By: |
Add A Comment | Comments (0) |
|
| |
| With the lights on, the foliage was silvery, more... |
06-06-2010 |
|
| With the lights on, the foliage was silvery, more mysterious
Lieutenant Hearn fingered the magazine on his carbine, removed it, clicked it into position again, holding the small rifle in his large hands, the muzzle pointed toward the jungleHe was in a complex mood with many elements of excitement and dejectionAfter all the order, all the well-timed advances, the front might now have exploded into anything, and in the meantime their jeep wandered around like a nerve seeking for a muscle or organ to function uponThe General had once said to him, "I like chaos, it's like the reagents foaming in the beaker before the precipitation of the crystalsIt's a kind of savory to me
Which was a crock of the well-known article, Hearn had decided at the timeThe General didn't like chaos, or rather he didn't like it when he was in the beakerThe only ones who liked it were men like himself, Hearn, who really weren't involved
Still, the General had reacted wellHearn gold gucci watches remembered the first apathy that had caught them all when the storm abatedThe General had stared at his muddy cot for almost half a minute, and then had scraped off a small handful of muck, which he kneaded in his fingersThat storm had cut the legs from them all, and yet the General had responded, made his incredibly urbane speech to the men, while everything in all of them had demanded tucking up one's tail and slinking off for some coverThat was understandable, however; the General had had to recover the connotations of his command
And now he was comprehensible tooHearn knew from the tone of his politeness, the quality of his voice, that he was thinking of nothing at all but the campaign and the night aheadIt made the General another man, definitely the nerve end with no other desire than to find something to act upon
It depressed Hearn even as it elicited his admirationThat type of concentration was inhuman, the process beyond his scopeHe stared prada fairy glumly at the jungle before him, hefting the carbine in his hands againIt was possible that a Jap machine gun could be set up at the next bend in the road, or much more likely there might be a few Jap snipers with an automatic weapon or twoTheir jeep would round the bend, be hit by a dozen bullets at once, and that would be the end of his petty history of unfocused gropings and unimportant dissatisfactionsAnd with him quite as casually would be lost a man who might be a genius, and an overgrown oaf like Dalleson, and a young nervous driver who was probably a potential FascistTurning a curve in the road
Or, obversely, he might kill a man himselfIt would be a question of throwing up his rifle, pressing the trigger, and a particular envelope of lusts and anxieties and perhaps some goodness would be quite deadAll as easy as stepping on an insect, perhaps easierThat was the thing, that was what caused this moodEverything was completely out of whack, none of the dolce purse joints fittedThe men had been singing in the motor pool, and there had been something nice about it, something childish and braveAnd they were here on this road, a point moving along a line in the vast neutral spaces of the jungleAnd somewhere else a battle might be going onThe artillery, the small-arms fire they had been hearing constantly, might be nothing, something scattered along the front, or it might be all concentrated now in the minuscule inferno of combatThe night had broken them into all the isolated units that actually they were
He became conscious again of Dalleson's huge bulk against his own large body, and he stiffened a littleAfter a moment or two he fished a cigarette out of the breast pocket of his shirt and fumbled for a match
"Better not smoke," Dalleson grunted"The jeep lights are on
"Yeah," Dalleson grunted and was silent againHe shifted his seat slightly in the cramped rear of the jeep, and was annoyed at Hearn for taking up so chanel quilted handbag much room, for smokingHe wasn't worried in the least about an ambushIf it came, he would meet it coolly and acquit himself wellWhat bothered him was what they were going to do when they got to the 151st ArtilleryHe had the anxiety of a dull student who was going to enter an examination he dreadedAs the G-3, in charge of operations and training, Dalleson was supposed to know the situation as well as the General, if not better, and without his maps and papers Dalleson felt lostThe General might depend on him for a decision, and that would be fatalHe twisted again in the seat, sniffed gloomily at Hearn's cigarette smoke, and then bent forward and spoke in what he thought was a low voice, although it brayed out loudly, startlingly
"I hope everything's okay when we get to the one-five-one, sir," Dalleson shouted
"Yes," the General said, listening to the spinning humming sounds of the tires as the jeep splashed through the mudDalleson's bellow had grated on louis vuitton backpacks |
| By: |
Add A Comment | Comments (0) |
|
| |
| Nearly everybody in this town hates me, Cyrus... |
06-05-2010 |
|
|
Nearly everybody in this town hates me, Cyrus saysThey hate you too, Edward, you might as well learn it early, ain't nothing they hate like a success, and you're sure gonna be one, if they don't like you they can still lick your boots
The mother and the son pack up the paints and easel, start back in the chilly spring afternoon from their jaunt outside the town, sketching the meager hills on the plain
Have a good time, Eddie dear? Her voice has a new trill in it now, a new warmth when they they are alone
When I was a little girl, I always used to dream I'd have a little boy and I'd go out with him and paint, just like thisCome on, I'll teach you a funny song while we go back
What is Boston like? he asks
Oh, it's a big city, it's dirty, coooold, everybody's always dressed up
Like Pa?
She laughs doubtfullyNow, don't you say anything to him about what we did this afternoon
Was it wrong?
No, now you just march right louis vuitton jewelry on home with me, and don't say a word to him, it's a secret
He hates her suddenly, and is quiet, moody, as they walk back to the townThat night he tells his father, listens with a kind of delicious glee and fright to the quarrel that follows
I'm going to tell you that that boy is all your fault, you indulge him, you bring out the worst in him, you never could get over leaving Boston, now, could you, we're really not fine enough out here for you
I'll be damned, I'm going to send him to military school, he's old enough to shift for himself, at nine years old a boy has to start thinking how to act like a manMilitary school's all right, that boy likes to listen to things about the war
What is partially behind it all is the conversation Cyrus has had with the town doctorThe fabulous beard, the hard shrewd eyes have twinkled at him, got a little of their own backCummings, there ain't a damn thing can be done now, it's over my head, vintage chanel jewelry if he were a little older I'd say take the boy over to Sally's and let him git some jism in his system
The basic good-bye at the age of ten, the railroad train, the farewell to the muddy roads at the periphery of town, the gaunt family houses, the smell of his father's bank, and the laundry on the lines
Good-bye, Son, and do all right for yourself, do you hear?
He has accepted the father's decision without any feeling, but now he shudders almost imperceptibly at the hand on his shoulderShe is weeping, and he feels a mild contempt, an almost lost compassion
Good-bye, and he goes, plummets into the monastery and becomes lost in the routine of the school, in polishing his buttons and making his bed
There are changes in himHe has never been friendly with other boys, but now he is cold rather than shyThe water colors, the books like Little Lord Fauntleroy and Ivanhoe and Oliver Twist are far less important; he never misses sac kelly hermes themThrough the years there he gets the best marks in his class, becomes a minor athlete, No3 man on the tennis teamLike his father, he is respected if he is not loved
And the crushes of course: he stands by his bunk at Saturday morning inspection, rigidly upright, clicking his heels as the colonel headmaster comes byThe suite of officer-teachers pass, and he waits numbly for the cadet colonel, a tall dark-haired youth
Cummings, the cadet colonel says
Your web belt has verdigris in the eyeletsAnd he watches him go, shuttling between anguish and a troubled excitement because he has been noticedA subterranean phenomenon, for he takes no part in the special activities pertinent to a boys' private school, is almost conspicuous by his avoidance
Nine years of it, the ascetic barracks, and the communal sleeping, the uniform-fears, the equipment-fears, the marching-tensions, and the meaningless vacationsHe sees his parents for six chanel jewellery weeks each summer, finds them strange, feels distant toward his brotherCyrus Cummings bores him now with her nostalgia
Remember, Eddie, when we went out to the hill and painted?
Yes, Mother
He graduates as cadet colonel
At home he makes a little stir in his uniformThe people know he is going to West Point, and he is pointed out to the young girls, to whom he is polite and indifferentHe is handsome now, not too tall, but his build is respectable, and his face has an intelligent scrubbed lookWell, Son, you're ready for West Point, eh?
Yes, sir, I expect soGlad you went to military school?
Tried to do the best I could, sirWest Point pleases himHe has decided long ago that little Matthew Arnold can carry on the bank, and this strange stiff son in the uniform is best away from homeGood idea sending you there, Cyrus saysHis mind is blank, but a powerful anxiety stirs along his spineHis palms are always wet when he talks to his black quilted bag fath |
| By: |
Add A Comment | Comments (0) |
|
| |
| The events of the patrol had receded already,... |
06-04-2010 |
|
| The events of the patrol had receded already, become a diffused wry compound of indistinct memories
By afternoon most of them were awakeThey were still terribly fatigued but they could not sleep any longerTheir bodies ached and they felt no desire to walk about the narrow confines of the troop well, but still they were subtly restlessThe patrol was over and yet they had so little to anticipateThe months and years ahead were very palpable to themThey were still on the treadmill; the misery, the ennui, the dislocated horrorThings would happen and time would pass, but there was no hope, no anticipationThere would be nothing but the deep cloudy dejection that overcast everything
Minetta lay on his bunk, his eyes closed, and dawdled through the afternoonThere was one fantasy he kept indulging, a very simple one, prada clutch a very pleasing oneMinetta was dreaming about blowing off his footOne of these days while cleaning his gun he could point the muzzle right into the middle of his ankle, and press the triggerAll the bones would be mashed in his foot, and whether they had to amputate or not, they certainly would have to send him home
Minetta tried to add up all the anglesHe wouldn't be able to run again, but then who the hell wanted to run anyway? And as for dancing, the way they had these artificial limbs he could put on a wooden foot, and still hold his ownOh, this was okay, this could work
For a moment he was uneasyDid it make any difference which foot it was? He was a leftie and maybe it'd be better to shoot the right foot, or were they both the same? He thought of asking Polack, and immediately dropped the ideaThis kind tiffany silver jewelry of thing he'd have to play aloneIn a couple of weeks, on a day when nothing was doing, he could take care of that little detailHe'd be in the hospital for a while, for three months, six months, but thenHe lit a cigarette and watched the clouds dissolve into one another, feeling agreeably sorry for himself because he was going to have to lose a foot and it was not his fault
Red picked at a sore on his hand, examining maternally the ridges and creases of his knucklesThere was no kidding himself any longerHis kidneys were shot, his legs would begin to break down soon, all through his body he could feel the damage the patrol had causedProbably it had taken things out of him he would never be able to put back againWell, it was the old men who got it, MacPherson on Motome, and then Wilson, it was probably fair picasso cartier enoughAnd there was always the chance of getting hit and coming out of it with a million-dollar woundWhat difference did it make anyway? Once a man turned yellowHe coughed, lying flat on his back, the phlegm gagging him slightlyIt took an effort of will to prop himself on his elbow and hawk the sputum out onto the floor of the boat
"Hey, Jack," one of the pilots on the stern hatch yelled, "keep the boat cleanWe don't want to scrub it after you guys
"Aaah, blow it out," Polack shouted
Croft called from his bunk, "Let's cut out that spittin', men
There were no answersRed nodded to himselfIt was there, all right; he had waited a little anxiously for Croft to say something, had been relieved when Croft had not scolded him by name
The bums in the flophouse who cringed when they were sober and cursed when they gucci watch bands were drunk
You carried it alone as long as you could, and then you weren't strong enough to take it any longerYou kept fighting everything, and everything broke you down, until in the end you were just a little goddam bolt holding on and squealing when the machine went too fast
He had to depend on other men, he needed other men now, and he didn't know how to go about itDeep within him were the first nebulae of an idea, but he could not phrase itIf they all stuck togetherAll they knew was to cut each other's throatsThere were no answers, there wasn't even any pride a man could have at the endFor an instant he hovered over the idea of writing her a letter, starting it up again, and then he threw it awayThe least you could do was back out like a manAnd there was the thought that maybe she'd tell him to go to chanel clearance hel |
| By: |
Add A Comment | Comments (0) |
|
| |
| Hearn paused, wiping his forehead roughly with... |
06-03-2010 |
|
| Hearn paused, wiping his forehead roughly with his sleeveWhat the hell's the matter with me?
"Are you junior officers getting your liquor supplies?" the General had asked, and something had leaped in him at that moment, left his nerves raw and displaced since thenWhat had the General meant?
After a moment or two he pushed down the corridor againThe ship's stores office was in a medium-sized cabin off the passagewayIt was cluttered with odd ration crates, bits of wood from broken boxes, a pile of papers which had overflowed from a wastebasket, and a large worn desk pushed into one corner
"Are you Kerrigan?" Hearn asked the officer sitting at prada replica handbags the desk
"That's right, sonny, what can I do for you?" Kerrigan had a lean, rather battered face with a few teeth missing
Hearn stared at him a moment, his anger pulsing again"Let's cut out all this 'sonny' crap He was rather startled by his own rage
"Anything you say, Lieutenant
Hearn controlled himself with an effort'"I've got a landing barge over the sideHere's the requisition for the supplies I wantI'd like to get out of here without taking up too much of your time or mine
Kerrigan went through the slip"This's for officers' mess, eh, Lieutenant?" He ticked off the items aloud"Five cases of whisky, a carton of salad oil, carton of mulberry roxanne mayonnaise" -- Kerrigan pronounced it "myonize" with an amused brogue -- "two crates of boned canned chicken, a box o' condiments, a dozen bottles of Worcestershire, a dozen bottles of chili, a crate of ketchupRestrained tastes y' haveI surmise tomorra you'll be sendin' out a barge to pick up a coupla jars of mustard"Pick and choose, pick and choose He drew his pencil through most of the items"I can give y' the whiskyFor the rest of it, we're not runnin' a stop-and-shop
"If you'll notice the requisition is signed by Horton for the General
Kerrigan lit a cigarette"When the General runs this ship, I'll start to sweat before him He stared gleefully at chanel pearls Hearn"One of Horton's men, a captain something or other, picked up the supplies for Division Headquarters yesterdayWe're not special caterers to officers' mess, you knowYe'll draw your supplies in bulk and break 'em down on the beach
Hearn restrained his temperI have funds from officers' mess to pay for them
"But I'm not obliged to give them to youAnd I damn sure won'tIf y' want Spam, that I can give you, and not a penny out of your pocketBut for these little extras, I suggest that you wait till a Navy ship appears againI don't have any truck with this selling of myonize He scribbled something on the requisition"If ye'll take this down into hold replica tiffany jewelry number two, ye'll get your whiskyIf I didn't have to give you that, I wouldn't
"Well, thank you, Kerrigan
"Any time, Lieutenant, any time
Hearn paced down the corridor, his eyes glitteringThe ship rolled on a swell and he lurched into a bulkhead, smacking his hand painfully against the metal to break the impactThen he halted, wiped the perspiration from his forehead and mouth again
He'd be damned if he'd go back without the suppliesKerrigan's smile angered him again, and with an effort he forced himself to grinThis was getting out of hand; Kerrigan after all had had style, was amusingThere were other ways to get the supplies, and he'd get chanel costume jewelry the |
| By: |
Add A Comment | Comments (0) |
|
| |
| Now after marching a few hundred yards they were... |
06-02-2010 |
|
| Now after marching a few hundred yards they were almost as tired as they had been when they halted, and the heat of the sun made them dizzy and weakWilson began to moan quite steadily
This tormented themTheir bodies felt powerless and clumsy; each time he groaned they winced with guilt and empathy, and the torments of his wound seemed to pass through the handles of the stretcher up into their armsThey bickered constantly for the first half mile while they still had wind to speakEverything they did grated on everybody else, and they snapped at each other continually
"Dammit, Goldstein, why don't you watch it?" Stanley would shout after a sudden jar
"Why don't you men quit the fussin' and do some work?" coco chanel handbags Ridges would mutter
"Aaah, blow it out," Stanley would shout
And Brown would interfere"Stanley, you're talkin' too damn muchWhy'n't you do some goddam work?"
They struggled on, enraged at each otherWilson began to babble again, and they listened to him dully"Men, why don' you all lea' me, a man who cain't hold up his end ain't worth a goddamAh'm jus' holdin' you backJus' lea' me, men, that's all Ah askOl' Wilson'll get along, y' don' have to worry about him
"Jus' lea' me, men
It tickled in their shoulders, washed down to their fingertips, which seemed to loosen on the litter handles"What the hell you talkin' about, Wilson?" Brown pantedEach of them was fighting his private battle
Goldstein old omega watches stumbled, and Wilson shouted at him"Goldstein, you're a no-good bastard, you done that on purpose, Ah been watchin' ya, and you're no good The name twisted in Wilson's head; he remembered the handle at his right foot being called Goldstein, and when the litter had dipped in that direction, he had bawled out the name"Goldstein's no fuggin good, a man who won't take a drink He giggled weakly, a little blood welling stickily from the parched hollow of his throat"Goddam, ol' Croft never knew Ah got a free bottle off him
Goldstein shook his head angrily, moved forward sullenly, his eyes on the groundThey never forget, the goyim, they never forget, he kept repeating to himselfHe felt leagued against all of themWhat fendi spy bags did this Wilson appreciate of what they were doing for him?
And Wilson lay back again, listening to the fast taut sounds of their sobbingThey were working for himHe understood it abruptly, held the idea for an instant and then lost it, but the emotion it stirred remained with him"Man, Ah think a lot of you all for what you're doin', but you don't have to stick with ol' WilsonJus' lea' me, that's all And when there was no answer he became fretful"Goddammit, men, Ah said you can lea' me He whined like a feverish child
Goldstein wanted to drop the litter handleHe said we should stop, Goldstein said to himselfBut immediately afterward he was moved by Wilson's speechIn the heat and the blunting exhaustion of cartier watches women the march he could not think clearly, and thoughts jerked through him like muscular reactionsWe can't leave him, he told himself; he's a generous fellow, and then Goldstein thought of nothing at all but the increasing torment in his arm, the muscle pains that extended across his back down into his straining legs
Wilson rubbed his tongue against the dry edge of his teeth"Oh, men, Ah'm thirsty," he chantedHe twisted on the litter, holding up his head toward the leaden glaring sky, his throat poised on the edge of a delicious blissAny moment they would give him some water and the torture of his tongue and palate would be assuaged"Men, gimme a drink," Wilson muttered"Le's have some water
They hardly heard replica fendi spy h |
| By: |
Add A Comment | Comments (0) |
|
| |
| |
|
|
|
|
