"JONES, J.V. - THE BARBED COIL" - читать интересную книгу автора (Jones J. V)

Look, I know you're there. I'm coming over. We need to talk.

Tessa was out of her chair and pulling on her shoes before the last
sentence started. The bacon sandwich was discarded, car keys located,
pocketbook checked for, and wool sweater pulled over her cotton shirt.
It was time to go for a walk.

Tessa hated those end-of-relationship talks. She hated the look in the
man's eyes, hated herself for failing again. All her relationships had
ended the same way, with the same phone call and the same
recriminations and guilt. How could she tell the men she felt nothing
for them yet couldn't understand why?

There was no way to tell them, which was why she spent her money on a
series of successively better answering machines. She couldn't tell
them, so she'd screen them out instead. And if, like Mike Hollister,
they threatened to come round and confront her in person, she'd simply
take off to the woods.

The southern California sun was brighter than Tessa liked. Despite the
fact that it was now May and the temperature was in the low seventies,
Tessa didn't discard her sweater. She always felt too exposed with
just a single layer of fabric be Her yellow Honda Civic was a good
friend. Unlike those tween her and the outside world. f faithless
cars in movies that always stalled when the heroine needed to get away,
the Civic purred into action the moment the key was turned.

Where to go? Tessa wanted to see some green. Not the chemically
enhanced green of land graded and ready for building, or the clipped
and cultured green of the Mission Gorge golf course. She wanted some
real green. Some living green.

Turning the car onto Texas Street, Tessa headed north from University
Heights and east on Highway 8, past lines of hotels, shopping malls,
bowling alleys, and driving ranges. It was early Saturday morning, so
the freeway was a breeze.

The sky was southern California blue: pale, cloudless, hazy. The
sunlight filtering through the driver's side window was warm on Tessa's
hands and face. h some deep and secret part of herself, Tessa was glad
to be on the run. It seemed the only times she was really happy in her
life were when she was on her way somewhere. If she was lucky, there
were minutes, even hours, when the anticipation of arrival was so
overpowering that she forgot about everything except the journey
itself. Without exception, when she finally reached her destination
she was always vaguely disappointed. She never seemed to get just
where she wanted to go.

As Tessa drove she was aware of a mild ringing sensation in her
temples. Shssssh, like fingernails scraped across a chalkboard. Tessa's