When you go into one of these novels you have to expect that it will be fast and easy and fun. This was all three. So if I look at the author's intent I give him a 10 out of 10. Sadly, it pushed absolutely no boundaries. You get what you get and you don't throw a fit.
I'm running out of first person genre mysteries to read though.
At least the last line is nicely prosaic.
WHEN I GOT BACK to Boston I changed into sweats, put some clean clothes and a shaving kit in a gym bag, and went down to the Harbor Health Club. I lifted weights. I hit the speed bag. I hit the heavy bag until the sweat was all over me and soaking through my shirt. Then I went to the steam room and sat for a long time. When I came out, I showered and shaved and put on my clean clothes.
It was still raining when I came out of the club. But it seemed to me that it was getting a little lighter in the west. Over Cambridge. Where Susan lived.
After the rain lifted, the world would probably seem as freshly washed as I was. The cleanliness was almost certainly illusory, or at best short-lasting. But life is mostly metaphor, anyway.
I got in my car and drove west.
Parker, Robert B. - Sixkill
No comments:
Post a Comment