I hate it. I hate the air, I hate the sand. I hate the stupid people, I hate the way they work. I hate their bloody smiley bloody faces. I hate the never-ending sky.
What does it take to destroy lives forever? 12 people. 12 ordinary, stupid, easily swayed, hard-of-thinking arseholes!
Why does everyone use first names so much, like they all work in marketing? Why do people insist on doing that? I mean, if you look at a person, I look at you, you know I’m talking to you. I don’t need to say your name three times to congratulate myself on remembering it, to create some sort of false intimacy.
When you’re in love, you think you’re gonna be interlocked forever. Love’s all-encompassing when you’re in it, but really, you can’t trust anyone. Not even the people you love. Ultimately, we’re all alone.
I found her, Pippa Gillespie. She was in the river. And it were deeper than I thought. I got pulled under. Just managed to get free and carry her body onto the bank. She’d been in there maybe three days. Water rots the body. She was the same age as my daughter. I can still feel the weight of her, water dripping off her clothes all down me. What sort of a person leaves a child like that?