(no subject)
Devil May Care, while not written by Ian Fleming, was a fairly decent novel about one possible route James Bond's life might have gone in had he started his life much earlier in the 20th century. The agent considered himself rather fortunate, in fact, that a good deal of the injuries suffered and sustained by this other version. He had no skin grafts on his left hand, for example. No large scars along his chest or back. A few minor ones, of course, but nothing particularly painful-looking.
Yet it hadn't taken Bond very long before he set the book aside and ventured out towards the beach and subsequently the open water. In some ways, he was jealous of this alternate identity that roamed freely about the continent with access to alcohol, secrets, weapons, and madmen. Women, well, that was a different matter entirely. He did miss them in a very vague way, akin to the nostalgic memories one has of brief sun-filled childhood days spent on the beach, but he did not yearn for past or potential future women in the same way that he so desperately longed for one proper villain.
Swimming offered little in terms of comfort, and the cool water provided him only with temporary distractions from unwelcome and unpleasant musings in regards to his own idleness. For while he could think of infinite causes for his on-going dilemma, he was damned if he could think of one suitable solution.
Yet it hadn't taken Bond very long before he set the book aside and ventured out towards the beach and subsequently the open water. In some ways, he was jealous of this alternate identity that roamed freely about the continent with access to alcohol, secrets, weapons, and madmen. Women, well, that was a different matter entirely. He did miss them in a very vague way, akin to the nostalgic memories one has of brief sun-filled childhood days spent on the beach, but he did not yearn for past or potential future women in the same way that he so desperately longed for one proper villain.
Swimming offered little in terms of comfort, and the cool water provided him only with temporary distractions from unwelcome and unpleasant musings in regards to his own idleness. For while he could think of infinite causes for his on-going dilemma, he was damned if he could think of one suitable solution.