Celebrating the 10th anniversary of American Gods by cooking up this lil’ poster.
She smiled at him, looking suddenly, and for the first time, vulnerable. She patted him on the arm. “You’re fucked up, Mister. But you’re cool.”
"I believe that’s what they call the human condition," said Shadow.
"I figure you’re at school."
"Where you are undoubtedly studying art history, women’s studies, and probably casting your own bronzes. And you probably work in a coffeehouse to help cover the rent."
She put down her fork, nostrils flaring, eyes wide. “How the fuck do you know that?”