"In order to come out the winner, in my mind, I memorized their faces, down to the smallest detail, the smallest nuance of expression — the black curling hair growing out of his cheek that he'd missed shaving, the pale pink blemish above her right eyebrow showing through the film of cream-colored makeup, applied with skillful thickness so that it blended out smoothly into her forehead. When I closed the door, I held them in my mind, exposing their image permanently onto a blank sheet in a secret file where I kept my memories for future use. I'd use this and other memories of them to serve me, to make them please me. They were flimsy in there, among the images I preserved, foolish really, not threatening at all. Two people who crushed each other's bodies every othernight beneath their mutual flab, muttering gratuitous, lustful phrases into each other's waxy ears until they'd come. Then they'd roll over, farting a sleep-inducing lullaby."
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”Friends”
https://en.wikiquote.org/wiki/Michael_Gira
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Michael Gira
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