The prospect of his future life stretched before him like a sentence; not a prison sentence but a long-winded sentence with a lot of unnecessary subordinate clauses, as he was soon in the habit of quipping during Happy Hour pickup time at the local campus bars and pubs. He couldnโt say he was looking forward to it, this rest-of-his-life.
Margaret AtwoodMore powerful than God, more evil than the Devil; the poor have it, the rich lack it, and if you eat it you die?
Margaret AtwoodNight falls. Or has fallen. Why is it that night falls, instead of rising, like the dawn? Yet if you look east, at sunset, you can see night rising, not falling; darkness lifting into the sky, up from the horizon, like a black sun behind cloud cover. Like smoke from an unseen fire, a line of fire just below the horizon, brushfire or a burning city. Maybe night falls because itโs heavy, a thick curtain pulled up over the eyes. Wool blanket.
Margaret Atwood