You & Me Read Online Free

uneven planks of pine or walnut or cherry since indeed it could be real wood if what you say about the table is true, all of this in the shade of the trees and in a breeze. I will be oddly and momentarily a complete man living a full life.

&
    I don’t want to go down there. Something could eat me—us. I forget you’re here sometimes. Something could eat us.
    I don’t regard that as the worst way to go. No matter how it went down, you’d not waste away. If the thing was large enough to attack, we might presume it large enough to get it over with. You’d be part of an appetite, part of Life.
    No old-folks home for you, eh? Down the hatch!
    That is right. Laugh as you will.
    I worry about small things eating me—malaria is worse than grizzlies.
    Of that no doubt. I am not going down there either if you think there are mosquitoes.
    Let’s stay right here in our nets and eat bonbons and get fatter and whiter and stupider and lazier and more cautious as we have less to be custodial of.
    Pustulent academics!
    I have never heard that word before. Is it a word?
    Pustulent? What other adjective could derive from pustule ?
    It sounds good, I grant you. But the red vapor of Air Spell Check puffs from your mouth when you say it. I see pestilent and postulant, but no pustulent. You look momentarily like a sloppy vampire when you say it.
    I wish I could be a sloppy vampire. My life has come to naught.
    Don’t start. Let’s not go there. We live there, so let’s not go home.
    That phrase, “go there,” is funny I think because it approximates an abstract translation of the English idea behind it.
    What are you talking about?
    An Italian would say, “I have large friendship and I like to go there all the time.” If you put the move on a Frenchwoman who was not ready for it, she might say, “Don’t go there,” and stop your hand.
    I see.
    These bonbons are hard as rocks.
    They came from the little Filipino lad you purchased that brutal haircut for.
    He chose the barber.
    No, the barber is his uncle, and he had to go to him once you made it so public you were funding the venture.
    Is it my fault the uncle is inept? They’d have known the child got his hair cut no matter how it was financed. He looked like one of those faux primitives.
    Now he looks like he suffered a head trauma at Sunday school.
    He looks like a houseboy.
    He may, but he is bringing candy to us that might be ten years old.
    Well, we are free to lie here and complain of it, so what is there to complain about?
    A fattening man may not bark?
    I think not. Not honorably.
    Do we still pretend to honor?
    We do.
    All right, then. I say no more about the granite nougat from the wounded boy. I will say that when I came into the café you should not have humiliated me that way.
    What way?
    â€œAre you not wearing panties?”
    Oh, that.
    Yes, that.
    It did look as if you’d forgone pants. Everyone in there agreed. That is why they laughed.
    They laughed because I gave them that Dietrich pose.
    Well, that too. But the pose supported the notion that you had no pants on under that beach shirt with those tails.
    These people don’t know what to make of us now.
    So let them not know. You become wooden in your old age.
    Who does? Them? They?
    No— you .

&
    Because we don’t have to do anything unless we want to.
    Are you done with that?
    With what?
    That sentence?
    Yeah, why?
    Because it’s not a sentence, and it’s inane, for starters.
    Who hung you up in the stirrup?
    Did what?
    Twist your drawers.
    I am too tired to deal with you.
    Me too you.
    You too me. You sound like Tarzan.
    You Jane. What the monkey name? They had them a chimp didn’t they?
    Cheetah.
    They had a cat name Chimp?
    Prolley did. They was stylin’ jungle folk.
    I remember when Tarzan take a shower in his clothes in New York City and rip out of his wet shirt with a muscle show.
    A muscle show?
    He stretch