"Cheap motels all smell the same: sex and deceit. I went to my room and hid the gun under my pillow and waited for the call. 'Seven o'clock at the bar downstairs,' the voice said. All I remember was the bartender's face, a couple dancing, and a few gunshots..."
"I decided one day to visit the mountains region of the north. My ancestors belonged to the land, and ruled over it until their seeds were swept by northern winds and planted in crowded, dusty, cities. That evening, the villagers held a large feast. Sacrifices were made to the Gods. There were twelve herds of swine, twelve large troops of white goats and twelve flocks of sheep, all slain and devoured by man and immortals alike..."
"Through an opening in the wall he could see her, lifting the table with one hand, devouring a chicken in the other. When she looked his way, he wondered if she could see him, or at least see his open eye looking at her from that tiny little hole. The thought of her approaching him, frightened him, but looking into her stange world, her terrifying house, her gothic furniture, thrilled him to death."
The city leaves its mark on people's memory by giving them a certain "image" to more or less "important or even intimate moments of their life. As important can become some day the human power over the identity of a city. For those who live in or near a given city, the place gains a certain 'personnality' and even a certain 'soul'."
