![]() On a street in Rio at Carnival, I saw them on a bridge, golden and tall and insect-eyed and winged, and elated I almost ran to greet them, before I saw that they were only people in costumes. “I grow weary of the journeying, and I wish sometimes that it would end. ![]() The first, a girl with long white hair and a split little finger, says things like: Meanwhile, Enn ends up talking to two girls. Vic puts his moves on the best-looking girl at the party, with some success. The party itself is quite well done, dingy and claustrophobic as these things tend to be. Guess what? These girls do, literally, come from another planet. Vic gives Enn the piece of advice that, once you know this is an sf story, gives away the plot: ![]() ![]() One of them, Vic, is confident, something of a smooth operator the other, Enn, is the narrator, and is all at sea, not knowing how to relate to girls who, he thinks, “just sort of sprint off into the future ahead of you” when puberty rolls around. Two boys are going to a party in a very normal pebble-dashed terraced house somewhere in East Croydon. As most reviews of this story by Neil Gaiman point out, there’s not a lot to it. ![]()
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