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January 21 - January 31, 2022
never before experienced such a motley assortment of hipsters, punks, cybergoths, gang-bangers, surfers, losers, stoners, posers, and countless other subspecies, all mingled together into one volatile soup.
This was an advanced homicide scene. As he looked around at all the police, ranks made evident by various lapel pins and shoulder badges, he was reminded of the words of Joseph, legendary leader of the Nez Percé: White men have too many chiefs.
he could see the shabby interior, brilliantly lit, where two CSU investigators in white suits moved about. They reminded Coldmoon of ancestral spirits, confused and wandering, seeking release from their earthly shackles.
it. It’s a novel about alienation from the modern world…and murder. The Miss Lonelyhearts character in the novel—who, by the way, is a man—is plagued by a suffering he’s all too aware of, but cannot seem to ameliorate.”
pugnaciousness.
empyrean
When he was a boy, his grandmother had explained that at birth a person received the life-breath from Wakan Tanka, which at death flew back to the spirit world in a flash of light. Perhaps this wichahpi streaking across the heavens was Jennifer Rosen, her breath of life returning to the eternal.
“The question always comes up: what can you tell about the perp from the handwriting? I’m afraid that in the past twenty to thirty years, the ‘science’ of handwriting analysis—graphology—has been thoroughly debunked.”
“It’s a pseudoscience. Graphology is on the same level as astrology, palmistry, and crystal ball gazing.” “I don’t buy it,” Coldmoon said. “You can tell a lot about a person from how they write. Messy handwriting means a messy person, a bold signature indicates a big ego, and so on.” “It’s very attractive to think that,” said Ianetti. “But a 1982 meta-study—a study of studies—proved beyond doubt that graphology was hopeless when it came to predicting personality traits. It turns out, for example, that many extremely well-organized people have illegible handwriting and vice versa.” He arched an
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Most of all, he was aware of the light: at night, it seemed rare, precious—more real. You didn’t notice light during the day; you were immersed in it; you put on your sunglasses and ignored it. But at night it was different.
iconoclast—
The hyoid was one of the most unusual bones in the body, in that it didn’t articulate with any others—it essentially floated between muscles and ligaments, providing an attachment for the tongue, the floor of the mouth, the epiglottis, and the pharynx. It was in the shape of a horseshoe, with a lesser and greater horn on each side.
In the short time he’d been in southern Florida, he’d learned that it seemed to have four distinct habitats: coastal boulevards for the über-rich; gated subdivisions for affluent retirees; bleak neighborhoods out of Grand Theft Auto—and swamp.
“Coffee, partner?” Another, longer pause. Then Pendergast accepted the cup; took a small, tentative sip. “The floral bouquet of poison sumac blooms first on the palate,” he announced. “Followed by notes of diesel oil and a long finish of battery acid.” And he handed the cup back.
wondering whether Pendergast had purchased his seemingly bottomless suit jacket from a magician’s supply store.
