The girl in front of me is hot, is a babe, and I think she’s younger than me, but she looks older, with her French manicure.You can tell she double-majored and speaks four languages. Plus she’s thin, nicely thin, dressed in H&M, but tastefully. Unpretentiously. An element of surprise: dangling felt earrings, handmade. Her teeth shine, her eyes shine, her skin—you’ll never guess—shines, like it’s printed on coated paper.Men in bars like babes like this, when it’s nighttime. You might just go after work and relax, hang out, have a drink. Girls like this go so well with beer, like nuts or chips. They’re happy. Even if they’re not happy, they’re about to show you that they are happy. Carefree. They bubble over in endless laughter. They laugh with their whole selves, with their whole being, here and now and for all eternity. They just always find something amusing—they’re still giggling long after somebody’s told a joke. And their shoulder strap slips down, and their svelte shoulders are playing peek-a-boo—sometimes they pull it back up, but not most of the time.
What do You think about Best European Fiction 2013?
