01 Apr 2018
“I miss Connecticut,” said Tom.
“Well, you live in New York, now,” said Nick, and he looked towards the bay as if to show Tom all that lay before him, as if to imply that he owned it.
“It’s Long Island.”
“It’s East Egg,” Nick said.
Tom and Nick talk about college, and then don't really talk very much after that.
- Part 2 of modern men dream of what they can't say
He closed his eyes but the lights bloomed underneath the lids, a deep red, and all he saw was Kemper’s dead eyes, like frog’s eggs — no light in them, nothing in them, limp, globs of gelatin coagulating under his glasses.
Or: Holden Ford is one sick fuck.
29 Apr 2017
“Well, you like our house?”
“Your house? It’s a nice place.”
“It really is,” Tom said. “We ought to see the stables after this.”
- Part 1 of modern men dream of what they can't say