The Beach

by Alex Garland

Yea, though I walk through the valley of death I will fear no evil, for I am the evilest motherfucker in the valley.

Moshe was a tall Israeli with an earsplitting laugh. He used it in the same way as a madman uses a gun, spraying it around with bewildering randomness. Hearing the laugh made me blink instinctively, like hearing a hammer pound on brick or metal. Our conversation was impeded by having to watch him through the strobe effect of my convulsing eyes.

if the outside world is too distant to use as a comparison, then nothing seems strange.

I make quick judgments, often completely wrong, and then stick by them rigidly.

I returned his smile, willing him to fuck off with all my heart.