Son talks to mom

My Secret History

A cyclist went past and cleared his throat and spat a squirt of red betel juice at us, just missing Eden's dress. Eden did not see it as hostility. The man was just a bumpkin on a bike."

- Paul Theroux

I just googled our names and this came up

"those bodacious dudes have an excellent time playing games with death"

cliffhanger

"by the end the only thing I wanted to know was how Wordsworth was going to help that poor soul with his asshole"