Posted on July 16, 2010 | 
The drive back to Port-au-Prince was repugnant. It was almost impossible to get the large woman into the car. Upon seeing her, the translator had crossed himself once, crossed himself again, and deserted at the first opportunity, leaving Ryu alone with the human hippopotamus for the drive back to Port-au-Prince.
She filled the entire back seat of the automobile, her oily flesh pressing softly, like well-yeasted dough, against the back of the driver. He could not help noting, as she settled into the capacious back seat, that the tires of the Mercedes were seriously compromised by her weight and he worried for the whole length of the trip about losing one or all of those tires. Ryu cranked up the air conditioner, but it wasn’t enough to keep the creature from disintegrating. He was drowning in the humid miasma of her breath and perspiration, in a rank, primordial swill. He was grateful when they arrived, at last, at his hotel and escaped from the confines of the car, but his gratitude evaporated in the hotel lobby.
—DEAD LOVE/Chapter 7.4/Arnotine Ferucand is Dead
