Friday, January 16, 2015

Amuse Bouche

The next morning, we sat across from each other at a table in Bickford’s, addled by physical proximity, bleary-eyed from lack of sleep, gulping orange juice and coffee and downing eggs and bacon and toast. Sex had made us ravenous. Black smudges underlined his eyes; secret glee was smeared on his mouth like jam. I wanted to lick it off.
from The Unwitting by Ellen Feldman

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