Американские боги
Chapter 8
Thesmallbrowncatopenedhereyesandstretchedtoherfeet.ShepaddedacrossthekitchenfloorandpushedatShadow’sbootwithherhead.Heputdownhislefthandandscratchedherforeheadandthebackofherearsandthescruffofherneck.Shearchedecstatically,thensprangintohislap,pushedherselfupagainsthischest,andtouchedhercoldnosetohis.Thenshecurledupinhislapandwentbacktosleep.Heputhishanddowntostrokeher:herfurwassoft,andshewaswarmandpleasantinhislap:sheactedlikeshewasinthesafestplaceintheworld,andShadowfeltcomforted.ThebeerleftapleasantbuzzinShadow’shead.
"Yourroomisatthetopofthestairs,bythebathroom,"saidJacquel."Yourworkclotheswillbehanginginthecloset—you’llsee.You’llwanttowashupandshavefirst,Iguess."
Shadowdid.Heshoweredstandinginthecast-irontubandheshaved,verynervously,withastraightrazorthatJacquelloanedhim.Itwasobscenelysharp,andhadamother-of-pearlhandle,andShadowsuspecteditwasusuallyusedtogivedeadmentheirfinalshave.Hehadneverusedastraightrazorbefore,buthedidnotcuthimself.Hewashedofftheshavingcream,lookedathimselfnakedinthefly-speckedbathroommirror.Hewasbruised:freshbruisesonhischestandarmsoverlayingthefadingbruisesthatMadSweeneyhadlefthim.
