“It’s like there isn’t anyone there. You know? You’re like this big, solid, man-shaped hole in the world.” She frowned.

– American Gods, p. 370

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4 thoughts on “

  1. big, solid, man – shaped hole in the world…

    i’m finding that mine is being filled with jazz…
    there wasn’t, and now ’tis, and i’m surprised to find that it’s been quietly sitting in its chair for the past six years.

    hm…

    unless, it’s just the opening of another tunnel.

    bah

      • Re: american gods

        Ah. I hadn’t been thinking of anything related to you when I posted, but still, that’s good to hear — better than the alternative, anyways.

        No, what amused me, and made me think you’d read the book and were making reference to it with the “sitting quietly in its chair” bit, was the rest of the paragraph:

        “Even when we were together. I loved being with you. You adored me, and you would do anything for me. But sometimes I’d go into a room and I wouldn’t think there was anybody in there. And I’d turn the light on, or I’d turn the light off, and I’d realize that you were in there, sitting on your own, not reading, not watching TV, not doing anything.”

        Extra amusing: the speaker there is the man-in-question’s dead wife: not dead in the Sylvia Plath, working-in-a-cubicle-isn’t-really-living sense of the word, but rather the got-in-a-car-crash, shambling-reanimated-body-filled-with-embalming-fluid-and-a-growing-population-of-maggots, Monty Python dead-parrot sense of the word.

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