Hooks (Fiction)

You have never been so hungry; you
have never been so cold. When we
slept, if we slept, we dreamed of
the feasts we had carelessly eaten
seven months earlier-all that but-
tered bread, the potato dumplings,
the sausages-eaten with disregard,
swallowing without tasting, leaving
great crumbs on our plates, scraps
of fat. In June of 1941, before the
Germans came, we thought we were
poor. But June seemed like paradise
by winter.

David Benioff, City of Thieves, (2008)

When a day that you happen to know
is Wednesday starts off by sounding
like Sunday, there is something
seriously wrong somewhere.

John Wyndham, Day of the Triffids, (1951)


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