I'm currently reading Miss Lonelyhearts & The Day of the Locustby Nathanael West.
I picked this little baby up at Dog Eared Books, in San Francisco.
Point being, I wanted to share this hilarious Excerpt:
He smoked a cigarette, standing in the dark and listening to her undress.
She made sea sounds; something flapped like a sail; there was the creak of ropes; then he heard the wave-against-a-wharf smack of rubber on flesh.
Her call for him to hurry was a sea-moan, and when he lay beside her, she heaved, tidal, moon-driven.
Some fifteen minutes later, he crawled out of bed like an exhausted swimmer leaving the surf, and dropped into a large arm chair near the window.
She made sea sounds; something flapped like a sail; there was the creak of ropes; then he heard the wave-against-a-wharf smack of rubber on flesh.
Her call for him to hurry was a sea-moan, and when he lay beside her, she heaved, tidal, moon-driven.
Some fifteen minutes later, he crawled out of bed like an exhausted swimmer leaving the surf, and dropped into a large arm chair near the window.
1 comment:
Ha! Great post!
Kinda funny, I always say that my aunt hugs me like sea foam curling over the rocks...nothing like sea referances :)
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