I’ve never, fashion wise, quite understood a ring through one’s nose, even if you’re a Ubangi. A gold hoop through your nostrils…huh…what brought it on I wonder. 424 more words
Tales of Passing Time
Was it angel, animal, mineral, chemical, chemo-therapeutical? We will be asking again.
Joseph McElroy, Women and Men
11 hours, 1 minute
“Confused,” she once signed a little note hand-delivered to him one morning begging his advice: it meant “in love,” and two months later she would confide in him that it had been just sex.
He thought he read her like a book. But what one?
The better then, with her amazing range, to go on as the sinewy dramatic soprano that she is, as mother, lover, barmaid, princess, or herself, to music—if you call that music real noise.
14 hours, 1 minute
And should they never meet, we have been invited no less: like we are the news either way—meeting or not meeting—as we are the relations between them. 13 more words
And so, weeks later, balancing her fresh-brimmed daiquiri against the poor flippancy she’d heard her husband speak behind her, she did not turn to look him angrily in the eye.