When we went to Norway we killed slugs.
We ate dinner at midnight as the sun revolved overhead, spinning in slow concentric circles, never dipping beyond the horizon. There was no night.
We looked up at the clouds, and she asked us if we wanted to do her a favor-to justify spending the night in her garage apartment at no cost. We weren't freeloaders, so we said O.K. She told us about the slugs.
There were hundreds of them crawling around the garden area-small families leaving slime trails on rock walls. We collected them one at a time, placing each of them in a huge plastic bag. We saw them pile on top of each other, felt their collec
It did get easier, once I started to imagine things were moving fast, too fast to fathom, too fast to see the stars but only feel them intrinsically on my skin—little pinpricks, little bubbles of air to touch my cheeks or take my breath. Or, you know. The sort of rambling things I was letting myself think, so long as it kept me distracted and living.
The window was damp with me leaning against it, and in that position the teeth-rattling rumble of the ol' greyhound's engines was churning my stomach much the same way a headache had been thrashing behind my eyes for the past month. I rubbed my ragged sleeve into a patch of fogged glass a
