Tuesday, 7 July 2009

melt like butter.

"The point when my sister intervened was either around the fourth bottle or the second key. Neither me nor Jacques protested, just lay on the kitchen counter talking about the cool marble and how in another life this marble could have been a mortuary slab or an altar, or a sculpture or a bathtub. I think we both knew what was coming but neither of us said it; he moved in for the kill and I was just a little bit sick on his t shirt."

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