A garage sale, a stag party, a fire drill.

The gist of the story was that our noble inquisitors were on the job again, righting wrongs. It was a gross oversimplification. A murder didn't happen in the void, like some kind of hiccough. It was the outcome of an inexorable series of past events climaxing in the act, and with repercussions stretching into the future far beyond the usual inquisition. I listened to myself thinking this way and had to laugh. A murder was a garage sale. A murder was a stag party. A murder was a fire drill. A murder was whatever the Inquisitor's Office wanted it to be.

Jon Lethem, Gun, with Occasional Music

Etiquetas: citas, jon lethem, metanoir, murders, noir