Βιβλία σαν το «The Tommyknockers»

All you’ve got to know is this: right now the government of the United States is sitting on top of the Washington Monument, right on the very point, tilting right and left and ready to fall off and break up on the pavement. There are just a handful of men that can prevent it. And you’re one of them.

Graham returned to the table. He was afraid that this was how he would remember the end of Sugarloaf Key-ice melting in two tea glasses and paper napkins fluttering off the redwood table in the breeze and Molly and Willy far down the beach.

"On the other hand," Ellis went on, "I had a forty-two-year-old patient in Stockholm some years ago who banged his head on a windowsill. He began to feel sick immediately and was taken by ambulance to the ER. When I got to him he was unconscious. He had a small bump and a very slight bruise. But he never regained consciousness and died after nine days in intensive care. To this day I have no idea why he died. In the autopsy report, we wrote brain haemorrhage resulting from an accident, but not one of us was satisfied with that assessment. The bleeding was so minor, and located in an area that shouldn’t have affected anything else at all. And yet his liver, kidneys, heart, and lungs shut down one after the other. The older I get, the more I think it’s like a game of roulette.

They entered an elevator of glass, tinted faintly orange. Lights flickered on and Mae saw her name appear on the walls, along with her high school yearbook photo. Welcome Mae Holland. A sound, something like a gasp, left Mae’s throat. She hadn’t seen that photo in years, and had been happy for its absence. This must have been Annie’s doing, assaulting her with it again. The picture was indeed Mae—her wide mouth, her thin lips, her olive skin, her black hair, but in this photo, more so than in life, her high cheekbones gave her a look of severity, her brown eyes not smiling, only small and cold, ready for war. Since the photo—she was eighteen then, angry and unsure—Mae had gained much-needed weight, her face had softened and curves appeared, curves that brought the attention of men of myriad ages and motives.

I think it was at that moment that I first began to entertain doubts as to Robin’s sanity. Not that people dining near would have noticed anything amiss with him: his voice was low-pitched and quiet. But the whole idea was so utterly far-fetched and fantastic that I couldn’t help wondering if his brilliant brain hadn’t crossed that tiny bridge which separates genius from insanity. I knew the hideous loathing he had always felt for war: was it possible that continual brooding on the idea had unhinged him?

Από το βράδυ της εικοστής έκτης, * JonBenet Ramsey: Δολοφονήθηκε σε ηλικία 6 ετών και η υπόθεση παραμένει ανεξιχνίαστη. Είχε συμμετάσχει σε παιδικά καλλιστεία. RkJQdWJsaXNoZXIy MTY1MTE= Α Ι Χ Μ Η Ρ Α Α Ν Τ Ι Κ Ε Ι Μ Ε Ν Α 23 όταν διαπιστώθηκε ότι είχε χαθεί η μικρή, μια ομάδα έρευνας είχε αρχίσει να χτενίζει το δάσος. Τελικά τη βρήκαν τυχαία κάτι κυνηγοί, λίγο μετά τις πέντε τα χαράματα. Είχε στραγγαλιστεί γύρω στα μεσάνυχτα με ένα κοινό σκοινί μπουγάδας, τυλιγμένο διπλή θηλιά γύρω από τον λαιμό της. Μετά, την είχαν πετάξει στο ρέμα, που ήταν ρηχό λόγω της παρατεταμένης καλοκαιρινής ξηρασίας. Το σκοινί είχε σκαλώσει σε έναν πελώριο βράχο και η πνιγμένη έμεινε να λικνίζεται όλη νύχτα με το κυματάκι.