He looks over at you, eyes wide, mouth dropping open, his face almost as white as his shirt. He’s surprised, too. There’s not a lot of broken glass, though, just some tiny slivers around his feet and one big piece busted into sharp peaks like a spiking line graph, the blood washing down it like r...
“That was an incredible night.” She smiled at Jason, reaching over to run a hand through his disheveled hair. “You really know how to treat a woman.” “You slept in your clothes on a fold-down bench on a train in India. How does that qualify as amazing?” “...
Sitting. Just sitting. Not wandering around some historical site, not getting yet another lecture from Sergei, not having every other person trying to sell him something from a carpet to a chess set to a washing machine. Sitting was good. The waiter, who spoke no English, kept the pots of coffee ...
He was in the living room, watching TV, and the phone was upstairs on his bed, but it was loud enough that he could have been down the street and heard it. The scratched-up screen made it hard to read the incoming number, but he had a good idea who it would be. “So, I called him,” Fatima said. “A...
The questions were ridiculous, the answers made no sense, and you couldn’t fail if you wanted to. Yet somehow he kept picking the wrong answer. “Question six. Which best describes your relationship: (a) a glass of water, (b) a book, (c) an umbrella, or (d) ice cream?” See? “Do I get a hint?” Zoë ...
The second set—three quick taps delivered a bit harder than the first set—blended into his half-awake, half-asleep dream. The third set of three shook the door casing and rattled the framed room-rate chart on the wall. “Go away,” Mark said, at the same time pulling the pil...