“I despise a person who puts themselves on TV, in newspapers, any kind of limelight, whatever the circumstances might be.” She said, before she swore me to secrecy.
“Well, we all know what men do with their right hands!” Jen looked into my eyes, accusingly.
Pressure. Always pressure. Never a few hours to think, sit in the garden, sip tea, sketch out ideas onto paper. Never.
Bethany adds two further ingredients, transforming the toast into a snack. Butter (soft, unrefrigerated) and a sticky, dark brown paste with a strong distinctive and salty flavour.
“I could draw in each mole, every dark pigment, birth mark, blemish, contour and crease found in his skin. I could map out Jake like the night sky and with the same degree of accuracy.”
Nodding your head and smiling, you’d told me you were just fine. (read more)