Against God Read Online Free PDF Page A

trying to reach you on your cell phone, Sylvain himself
     tried to call you three times, so why didn’t you answer, why did you leave the
     funeral parlour, why are you here, and your silence starts to annoy Sylvain,
     finally you say that you want to get loaded, Sylvain calms down then, orders two
     beers, he tells you he understands your confusion, tells you that and much more
     about the absurdity of life and suffering and injustice, but you’re not really
     listening, you watch the waitress as she brings both your drinks, her suggestive
     grin in your friend’s direction, her firm buttocks in her figure-hugging short
     skirt, and you interrupt Sylvain to ask if he’s ever fucked the waitress, he’s
     taken aback, but he does answer yes, and, with no hint of a smile, you ask him
     if she likes it hot and dirty, and he, still more disconcerted, says yes, quite
     a bit, you nod, staring into space now, slowly you start to speak, your voice
     distant, you explain that Judith didn’t like it hot and dirty, at least hadn’t
     for several years, you still made love once a week, sometimes twice, but it was
     much tamer, especially since the children’s arrival, and she was often tired, or
     in a hurry, or both, so sex never lasted very long, not to mention you always
     had to check first, no spontaneity, nothing impromptu, but from what your other
     couple friends have said, you told yourself that all things considered, the two
     of you were within thenorm, yes, the norm, you repeat it
     several times, the norm, and Sylvain doesn’t interrupt you, stares at you in
     silence, alarmed, then you sigh, look around and declare that you would like to
     do it hot and dirty with someone tonight, and you say the words with an odd
     lassitude, and Sylvain points out this is definitely not a good time, you get
     worked up a bit then, you
    - Why not? It hasn’t been a good time for nine whole years! I’ve been keeping a
     lid on it for nine whole years, always doing the right thing, and what good was
     that, eh? What good was that?
    attract stares, Sylvain begs you to calm down, which you do eventually, but you
     throw back your beer, and your friend tries to reason with you, states you need
     to go back to the funeral home, everyone’s waiting, someone told him one of your
     cousins almost had a heart attack earlier on but that she’s out of danger now,
     you tell him you know all that, you were the cause, Sylvain doesn’t understand,
     you explain, he stares at you then, outraged, how could you push her wheelchair
     into the street, you point out you didn’t push her, but hearing her bullshit,
     you simply lost any desire to keep holding onto the wheelchair, you wanted her
     gone from you, actually you’re not really sure what you wanted, to let go, just
     let go, but you couldn’t have predicted she would roll right onto the street, or
     that a car would nearly hit her, or that a second car would run into the first,
     or that your cousin would come that close to having a heart attack, no, you
     couldn’t have predictedthat the mere loosening of your
     fingers would provoke such a chain reaction, just as Judith and your children
     couldn’t have predicted that they would die on their drive home, no one can
     predict anything, no one can know anything, no matter how well-organized, how
     well-prepared, how much in control, or more specifically how much a person feels
     in control, and you get excited again, you ask your friend if he remembers when
     you were teenagers, how irresponsible and disruptive you were, how you didn’t
     give a damn about a thing, how when you came home from parties totally hammered
     you’d still drive your parents’ cars, or how you skated on the lake during the
     early April thaw, and then you got older, you came round, like everyone does, or
     at least, you came round even if he didn’t, and the whole while you thump on the
     table as though trying to squash the phrase, pulverize it, and