“ He listened for sobbing from outside the slammed door. There were none. His ear was bleeding and his face burned, but he was oddly exhilarated. He was sorry Diane was so upset, but there was something stirring about a violent tantrum. It was the sort of thing he liked to tell stories about.
Daisy’s Valentine. Mary Gaitskill 1988.
Ooof what a terrible feeling. To have your incredulity only serve as an anecdote for an artistic young man.
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