February 2012
43 posts
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From a work-in-progress…
Early forties, I suspected he was, with a stern, knowing face, strong in brow and nose, the sleepy eyes of a careless philanderer. The soft lips of a saint. His hair was thick and lush, begging to be stroked, rich brown with premature silver flames streaking from his temples, white salting his otherwise dark stubble. His irises were pale green as verdigris, celadon-on-porcelain, and they cut like...
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“Hugh and I have been together for so long that in order to arouse extraordinary...”
– David Sedaris
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“I like beautiful melodies telling me terrible things.”
– Tom Waits
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