"We'd been dancing together in a circle, our jackets and jumpers and bags on the floor in front of us, and I was sweating a bit. And I felt the sweat when I saw Charlo. This wasn't a crush, this wasn't David Cassidy or David Essex over there, it was sex. I wanted to go over there and bite him.
He took the fag from his mouth, I could feel the lip coming part of the way before letting go, and blew a gorgeous jet of smoke up into the light. It pushed the old smoke out of its way and charged into the ceiling.
He was coming over. The cigarette went onto the floor; he flicked it away, didn't look where it was going. He was coming straight at me but he wasn't looking. I was shiteing; he was going to walk past me."
Unfortunately, this is not a love story. And it is pretty much Badlands- only the Irish version. The hardest part to get through this book is reading the thoughts of this battered woman. How she defends her husband till the end, only because she loves him, and how she powerfully manipulates her own thoughts. This book constantly switches between past and present, and crying in St. Stephan's Green was a tad embarrassing but this book is pretty "brutal" and Doyle uses only the best Irish slang!
And You Thought I Couldn't Mind-Read
We live in-between
two doors of our psychosis
which do you believe?
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