Longish chapter. Importantish chapter. Some people will think I dodged certain things again… but if so, it’s with a slightly different approach than usual. Maybe some things aren’t always suited for teleological narrative structure? Or maybe I am insufficiently focused on the customary telos? TT; DR (too theoretical; didn’t read): sex. Of some sort. And then some comedy, for the relief. I wish I had a joke here, but all I got is part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11, and part 12.
They stop at the first motel they see; Helena does not even remember, by the time they are walking, luggageless, down the outdoor hallway to their room, which chain it belongs to. That they are on the first floor, the first floor outdoors—“Nothing with a view?” Myka had joked weakly at the desk—meant no elevator ride, no transitional space of semi-privacy, nothing to prepare them. If they could have been magically transported from the Flynns’ driveway to the room… but no, they had to get into the car and drive, and look intentionally for signs, and think about what they were going to do; Helena also had to call Charles to tell him she would not be home until morning.
Still, when the door clicks closed, Helena honestly expects be thrown against it: it is almost a conditioned response, now, for her body to tense and then, once Myka is pressed against her, to begin to melt.
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