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“About time,” when the train finally creaked in, with the familiarity strangers adopt with each other after sharing in the disappointment of a public service. She smiled at him.
they had not been in touch in years, yet she could not pretend that he was not a part of her homesickness, or that she did not often think of him, sifting through their past, looking for portents of what she could not name.
But she had not had a bold epiphany and there was no cause; it was simply that layer after layer of discontent had settled in her, and formed a mass that now propelled her. She did not tell him this, because it would hurt him to know she had felt that way for a while,
“My eyes were open but I did not see the ceiling.
“Just in case this is the last time we hold hands, let’s really hold hands. Because a motorcycle or a car can kill us now, or I might see the real man of my dreams down the street and leave you or you might see the real woman of your dreams and leave me.”
Later, she wished that she remembered every word they said to each other as they danced.
She rested her head against his and felt, for the first time, what she would often feel with him: a self-affection. He made her like herself.
“You make me shy,” he said. “Are you serious? Because you make me shy.”
I have forgotten what it feels like to be in a bus? It is so easy to get used to all this.”
I didn’t know I was even supposed to have issues until I came to America.
It terrified her, to be unable to visualize tomorrow.
the kind of outfit that was selected with the right amount of thought; a man who looked at himself in the mirror but did not look for too long.
He believed in good omens and positive thoughts and happy endings to films, a trouble-free belief, because he had not considered them deeply before choosing to believe; he just simply believed.
don’t want to be a sweetheart. I want to be the fucking love of your life,” Curt said with a force that startled her.
“The fried chicken you eat is not the fried chicken I eat, but it’s the fried chicken that Paula eats.”
“The best thing about America is that it gives you space. I like that. I like that you buy into the dream, it’s a lie but you buy into it and that’s all that matters.”
“Try more strategy and less force. Passion never wins any game, never mind what they say.”
“How are you?” he asked. “Groggy. Not sure what happened yesterday. Did you seduce me?”
He laughed, and thought how, with her, he was as he had never been with another woman: amused, alert, alive. Later, as they left the restaurant, he had watched as she briskly sidestepped the puddles of water in the potholes by the gate and felt a desire to smooth all the roads in Lagos, for her.
