Motel Chronicles Quotes

people here have become the people they're pretending to be.

He pictured both cities simultaneously, as though they hung on the extended arms of the orange clouds. Suspended. Tiny San Francisco dangling to the north: innocent, rich and a little bit silly. The sprawling, demented snake of L.A. to the south. Its fanged mouth wide open, eyes blazing, paralyzed in a lunge of pure paranoia. This was the place to be, he thought. Right here. In the middle. Smack in the belly of California where he could eyeball both from a distance. He could live inside the intestines of this valley while he spied on the brain and the genitals.

Men combing their hair in cars Men watching their hair in rear-view mirrors Men carrying big black combs in their back pockets Men worried about how Women see them Men turning themselves into advertisements of Men Women wearing boots that make them limp Women watching their eyes don't wander on to the eyes of Men Women worried how Men will see them Women turning themselves into advertisements of Women

Where are we going?” I asked. It might have been a better question to ask before I'd gotten into the black Mustang with Konstantin, but I hadn't wanted him to leave without me. And did it really matter where we were going? I had no place to be. No place to call home. “I don't know.” He glanced in the rearview mirror, watching the diner disappear behind us as he sped down the highway. “Do you have somewhere in mind?” I shook my head. “No.” Then I looked over at him. “But we should find someplace where we can really talk.” “How about a motel?” he suggested, and when I scowled at him, he laughed. “If I was going to murder you, I would’ve done it already, and if I was just looking to get laid, believe me when I say there are easier ways to do it than this.