Maggiori informazioni sul libro
Will's mother's hokey homily, Waste not, want not . . . hisses in his ears as he oscillates furiously on the spot, havering on the threshold between the bedroom and the dying one . . .all the while cradling the plastic leech of the syringe in the crook of his arm. Oscillating furiously, and, as he'd presses the plunger home a touch more . . . and more, he hears it again and again- Waaaste nooot, waaant nooot . . . ! whooshing into and out of him, while the blackness wells up at the periphery of his vision, and his hackneyed heart begins to beat out weirdly arrhythmic drum fills - even hitting the occasional rim-shot on his resonating rib cage. He waits, paralysed, acutely conscious, that were he simply to press his thumb right home, it'll be a cartoonish death- That's all folks! as the aperture screws shut forever.
Acquisto del libro
Will, Will Self
- Lingua
- Pubblicato
- 2019
- Rilegatura
- (In brossura),
- Condizioni del libro
- In buone condizioni
- Prezzo
- 17,49 €
Metodi di pagamento
Ancora nessuna valutazione.
- Titolo
- Will
- Lingua
- Inglese
- Autori
- Will Self
- Editore
- Penguin Books Ltd (UK)
- Pubblicato
- 2019
- Formato
- In brossura
- Pagine
- 352
- ISBN10
- 0670918628
- ISBN13
- 9780670918621
- Serie
- Categoria
- Tag
- Manuali e guide, Storie, Letteratura britannica, Memorie, 21° Secolo, Droghe, Dipendenza, Psicopatologia
- Descrizione
- Will's mother's hokey homily, Waste not, want not . . . hisses in his ears as he oscillates furiously on the spot, havering on the threshold between the bedroom and the dying one . . .all the while cradling the plastic leech of the syringe in the crook of his arm. Oscillating furiously, and, as he'd presses the plunger home a touch more . . . and more, he hears it again and again- Waaaste nooot, waaant nooot . . . ! whooshing into and out of him, while the blackness wells up at the periphery of his vision, and his hackneyed heart begins to beat out weirdly arrhythmic drum fills - even hitting the occasional rim-shot on his resonating rib cage. He waits, paralysed, acutely conscious, that were he simply to press his thumb right home, it'll be a cartoonish death- That's all folks! as the aperture screws shut forever.