M. T. Anderson

Oh, I don’t know about you, but I really hate chase scenes. It’s all just chase, chase, chase, up the staircase, down the staircase, bang, bang, bang, “Over this way,” “No—that way,” under the desk, over the chair, and you know that either they’re going to get caught or they’re not. So why prolong the agony?
I’ll just tell you.
They made it to an old laundry chute.
Whales on Stilts, 47