”I looked at the map and saw that leviathan was pointing to a small town near the coast.“No, that town is too dangerous, we’d be better off taking a slightly longer route and stopping for the night in this town near to the forest, by the river.”“How long would that add to the journey?”“Somewhere between twelve and fifteen hours, depending on how long it takes us to get the supplies.”As we were getting closer to the town, I looked over at leviathan and saw that she looked like she wanted to ask me something.“Is something wrong? You look like you want to ask me something.”“There is something the others were talking about that I’ve been wondering about.”“What is it?”“Well, it’s about phoenix. I know the two of you were close friends and I don’t believe he really died after that battle. I guess what I’m trying to say is do you know what really happened?”“You’re right to doubt what the others told you, he’s not truly dead, but he’s not exactly alive either.”“What do you mean?”“Well, are. Then she kind of smirked at me and said "I'll see if we have something ... for you." As if someone like me was never, in a million years, going to be capable of understanding this big-brained French dude. I felt my face flush-- fortunately my blush would disguise the fact-- as she led me to the philosophy section.We looked at the books for a minute-- she reached for one called Foucault For Dummies and I dismissed it with a haughty glare-- and eventually arrived at a thin introductory volume. All the while, though, I was looking at her-- her fat breasts loose under her Obama T-shirt, a roll sticking out on one side of her hips, her ample butt squishy in her jeans. There was something monstrous about her, large and hairy as she was, something repellent and yet magnetic, the sight of a woman my age so completely devoted to a different way of presenting herself to the world. I tried to imagine letting myself go like that-- no, it was too awful. And yet I couldn't tear away.I took the book.
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