‘Why don’t you go for a swim?’ she asks in the dream, leaning forward in her chair at Café Che beneath the photo of a young Patty Hearst, assault rifle in hand. Katherine wears a bright blue bathing cap with metallic silver spangles, but nobody pays attention. She coaxes him into the water with a curl of a smile.
‘Sure,’ he answers, running into the surf with his heart pounding in his pants. But when he gets back to the blanket, she is gone. He finds only empty latte cups with stained lids and ripped sugar packets.Excerpt from The Gringo. For your summertime reading, go here.
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