bookoisseur
fwriction:

"That is not to say that we share no happiness, or that she does not smile, or that all of her silences drown her, or that her eyes are lightless. But I say to myself: I wish you didn’t look so cold, like distant white stones, like broken bright marbles, like newly-burnt ashes. Ashes to ashes to ashes, and a knife under the pillow."
—from J.E. Reich’s novel excerpt, "London, 1973"
(Jean-Baptiste-Camille Corot’s “Portrait of a Girl” courtesy of the NYT.)

fwriction:

"That is not to say that we share no happiness, or that she does not smile, or that all of her silences drown her, or that her eyes are lightless. But I say to myself: I wish you didn’t look so cold, like distant white stones, like broken bright marbles, like newly-burnt ashes. Ashes to ashes to ashes, and a knife under the pillow."

—from J.E. Reich’s novel excerpt, "London, 1973"

(Jean-Baptiste-Camille Corot’s “Portrait of a Girl” courtesy of the NYT.)