{"id":255646,"date":"2026-07-13T04:31:43","date_gmt":"2026-07-13T01:31:43","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/1kitap1.com\/en\/camarade-theo-dorgan\/"},"modified":"2026-07-13T04:31:43","modified_gmt":"2026-07-13T01:31:43","slug":"camarade-theo-dorgan","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/1kitap1.com\/en\/camarade-theo-dorgan\/","title":{"rendered":"Camarade – Theo Dorgan"},"content":{"rendered":"
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With her eyes she led my eyes down to her full, unsupported breasts beneath the black ribbed polo neck sweater she wore. I saw her register that I understood she was naked beneath it, as I guessed she was naked under the knee-length corduroy skirt. When my breath shallowed in a catch of desire she smiled; I thought it a shy smile, but I did not know her yet. With a confidence I did not feel, but understood I must show, I took her hand in mine.<\/p>\n

She dipped away to crush out the cigarette, drained the coffee and followed me barefooted up the narrow stairs. I learned what it is to be absolutely alive all the way into the depths of and out to the very electron shield edges of my own body. I learned what it is to be luminously competent in my own body. I learned what it is to give and take pleasure in the body, and not to be afraid when I could no longer tell which was my body, which was hers.<\/p>\n

For the first time in my life, I learned in the blood what it is not to be alone. I had not realised how absolutely alone in the world I had been until then. I should be accurate here: this last is the only realisation I came to in the living moment \u2013 the rest I intuited, felt but did not understand.<\/p>\n

Late that afternoon, when the first delirium had passed, the rage and the fury and then the smooth supple passages of gesture and caress, the gradual carnal quietening, I was overcome by that exquisite understanding, and I wept without caring to know why. Nor did it seem to me that she was disquieted by this, only she held me until I grew calm and then gradually, carefully, she set me on fire again.<\/p>\n

Tell me, she asked, as we lay side by side, our heads on our folded arms, our faces towards each other, tell me she asked, why did you shoot that policeman? She put the flat of her hand between my shoulder blades, pressing me down as I went to rise. Ssh, ssh, she said, gently, gently. Why did you do it?<\/p>\n

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All characters and events in this book, except for those who are identifiably real and recognisable in the public domain, are entirely fictional. Any resemblance to any person living or dead which may occur inadvertently is completely unintentional. This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out or otherwise circulated without the publisher\u2019s prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.<\/p>\n

No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or any information or retrieval system, without the prior permission of the publisher in writing. This digital document has been produced by Nord Compo. 1kitap1.com\/en CONTENTS Title Page Dedication Page Copyright Part 1 Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Part 2 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Chapter 28 Chapter 29 Chapter 30 Chapter 31 Chapter 32 Chapter 33 Chapter 34 Chapter 35 Chapter 36 Chapter 37 Chapter 38 Chapter 39 Chapter 40 Chapter 41 Chapter 42 Chapter 43 Chapter 44 Chapter 45 Chapter 46 Chapter 47 1kitap1.com\/en PART 1 1kitap1.com\/en 1 All things considered, I wonder if shooting that policeman made me the man that I am?<\/p>\n

On the Rue Mouffetard this morning there was a man who reminded me, for a fleeting moment, of Sam. That gaunt, scribed face, now so world famous. I felt my hand rise unbidden in greeting, but the fellow turned away, a defeated slump in his shoulders that somehow irritated me. I miss my upright friend. Once, over whiskey, I asked him how it was that he flew free.<\/p>\n

Long silence, then: \u2018I suppose, I suppose I just refused.\u2019 That cold blank stare. Then, unexpectedly, he reached across and squeezed my arm. We veterans. We come to our lives in different ways, those of us who are forced, shocked or tricked into waking. I mean, of course, our real lives \u2013 but very few people have real lives now, by which I mean lives over which they deliberate, lives they are prepared to answer for at the bar of extinction.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

This is a short excerpt from the opening of “” by Unknown, quoted for review and introduction purposes. All rights belong to the copyright holders.<\/em><\/p>\n

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