“The plane banked, and he pressed his face against the cold window. The ocean tilted up to meet him, its dark surface studded with points of light that looked like constellations, fallen stars. The tourist sitting next to him asked… — Rupert Thomson Copy Share Image
“While still practising law, he'd run a hearse-rental agency. Then, later, he'd bought into a handkerchief factory in Baker Park. Their most famous innovation was the funeral hankerchief, a plain white cotton handkerchief with a black border. Not long afterwards he patented the first black-edged tissue. He'd made millions, apparently, though nobody knew what he'd done with the money. His… — Rupert Thomson Copy Share
“Vasco bought a bottle of vodka to celebrate and they drank it in the old sailors' graveyard in Mangrove South. This was where the funeral business had first put down its roots. Over the wall, between two warehouses, Jed could just make out the Witch's Fingers, four long talons of sand that lay in the mouth of the river. Rumour… — Rupert Thomson Copy Share
“At first he didn't know where he was, whose voice it was. He must have been asleep. And waking suddenly, like that, you woke… — Rupert Thomson Copy Share Image
“It was as if Jed had moved from one dimension to another. His original dimension hadn't reported him missing, and his new dimension didn't… — Rupert Thomson Copy Share Image
“He woke early the next morning. It was still cool, but he opened the window and, leaning on the ledge, looked down at the… — Rupert Thomson Copy Share Image
“He was dropped under a streetlamp, the only person left on the bus. A patch of mauled light. Gritty pavement, scarred with a million… — Rupert Thomson Copy Share Image
“You must tell me about it when you do,' she said. 'When you make love for the first time, I mean. I want to know what you think.' He glanced away from her, out of the window. An ice-cream parlour, a man with a dog, a tree. How was he going to get out of shopping next week? 'It's so… — Rupert Thomson Copy Share
“That's what birthdays were. Days when you found out where you stood. Who was on your side and who wasn't. Nothing to do with… — Rupert Thomson Copy Share Image
“Did I tell you about Anton?" Loots said. Anton?" I shook my head. It was a week ago, Loots said. There had been a knock on the door of his apartment and when he opened it his old friend Anton was standing there. Anton was a clown. He belonged to a circus that toured the provinces, playing to small towns… — Rupert Thomson Copy Share
“Sometimes it seemed as if he'd always been very old. People said that time lasted for ever when you were young. That was lies. Lies and rosy spectacles. His spectacles were steel frames and time was those tattoos on Vasco's arm. They were more like time than anything else. Once, in the Empire of Junk, he'd seen an hour-glass. Now… — Rupert Thomson Copy Share
“He looked both proud and guilty of something. As if happiness was a reward and he wasn't sure he'd done enough to deserve it.” — Rupert Thomson Copy Share Image
