Surreal stories that that whip between absurd and emotional with each line. It’s difficult to pull a representative quote, but I really liked this one (which is sandwiched in a story about a world where every phone has a built-in gun, called the cell pistol)
If one thinks about the difference between lilies of the valley and ornamental grass, it’s perhaps quite obvious why I thought ornamental grass was so awful; it’s because lily of the valley has such beautifully shaped bells that smell so sweet, whereas the only visual form the grass has to offer is a gentle curve. If one is fortunate enough to stumble upon a belt of flowering lilies of the valley in the forest just as the sunlight filters through the trees and touches the forest floor and the green leaves and the small white bells so everything is luminous, one might experience the same quiet but effervescent joy that one feels when one understands that the person one loves loves one back, and if one imagines sunlight on ornamental grass in the same way, one will perhaps see that sunlight on ornamental grass isn’t anything more than what it is: sunlight, ornamental grass. And yet I now have large terra-cotta pots in what I call my garden, which is nothing more than a concrete square outside the house, with tall ornamental grass in them. Why? Because as an adult I love things other than small, perfumed bells. I love it when the wind blows through the grass, it reminds me of sand and being by the sea.