Later Years | auto·phil·ogyny

First, In Anger Part II

cont’d from First, In Anger “Here, drink this down and calm yourself.” A delicate hand shoved a cup of Brut to my mouth. It was Bridgette who’d saved me. A big boned girl with a sophisticated Sophia Loren look (a young Sophia Loren). Her hair was pulled up in a messy ball and held in [...]


First, In Anger

Servility masters a sort of dull sensitivity in the hearts of the forlorn; the same dullness felt with the instantaneous removal of a limb. As I have experienced the former in all its depleting humility, I have also been the butcher in the latter. I speak of limbs here though in the most delicate and [...]