Garen Drussai

“ The two men paused at an intersection—paused for endless moments—while millions of people watched, hardly daring to breathe. Then slowly and deliberately, with overtly melodramatic malice, they turn a corner, and start to run swiftly along the street. ”

“ Everything falls into place suddenly, it all seems so wrong, so useless." He looked at her intently as she pushed her empty plate away and lit a cigarette. "Ellie, doesn't it strike you as strange—almost unbelievable—that we accept the concept of longevity as a subversive one? Doesn't it seem—well, weird—that we sixty plus-ers sit around every night—just waiting?"
Eleanor turned innocuous grey eyes to him. "Oh, Sydney, you're talking like a silly pup. Let's pay attention to the show."
"Some people kill themselves." ”

“ Without warning, the two men stopped in front of an apartment house. They glanced quickly around, and then slipped into the building, the camera close upon them.
Sydney took his wife's hand. "Why they've even been in the very same building before." His face felt cold and damp. He added resolutely, "It's a big apartment house, Ellie, a real big one." ”

“ She dumped her armful of packages beside her on the couch as she kicked off her shoes. "Whew! What a relief!"
Closing the door carefully, Sydney hurried over to her. "Ellie—I've been worried. You didn't tell me you were going to be so late. And when you didn't call—"
"Nonsense," she said gaily. "It's only 6:15. Why, the stores are just now starting to board up. And you know the "A Cars" don't start running till seven." She smiled at him. "Would you get my slippers, honey?"
He hesitated for a moment, and then shuffled into the bedroom. Eleanor stood in front of the couch flexing her tired toes. ”