Rachel didn't have any memory of chocolate eggs but here was one now.
And what had the cousins expected, back when they agreed to put Vaclav Havel's press secretary up for a month?
He was an unlikely, sunburnt ghost, white-teethed and island bred.
The cartoon men got up off the page, shimmied down a table leg, and bused her cafeteria tray for her.
Sometime during the night of December 2, an intruder entered the Theatrical Print Warehouse.
Cyndy died of breast cancer at age twenty-six, a fact which I find unbelievable.
The landscape of my imagination is inevitably that of the West.
When I see two middle-aged women out for a walk, my heart tightens with jealousy. I know what they're doing, after all. They're talking about sex.
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