Sam Lipsyte

  • Fernanda Toralhar citeretsidste år
    Fraz wishes they could meet at a coffee bar, or a full-service bar, or a full-service meat cart. He likes the street meat, the tangy skewers. He doesn’t mind the toddies. But the candles, the garden scents, menace his dainty machismo.
    Listen, such are the sacrifices one makes for the cause, for mental archery, for love.
  • Fernanda Toralhar citeretsidste år
    He could sense Tovah’s displeasure, her weariness. The qualities in Fraz she once claimed to adore were maybe not such adorable qualities anymore.
  • Fernanda Toralhar citeretsidste år
    he names of her children sometimes embarrass Tovah. They were Fraz’s idea. He had declared himself the creative one, which is how people (men) describe themselves when they aren’t the competent ones. Tovah has a degree in poetry and two chapbooks, even if that was a thousand lives ago, but somehow he bulldozed her on the kids’ names.
  • Fernanda Toralhar citeretsidste år
    He was shocked and grateful, but also afraid, perhaps, that he could never sustain the heart she summoned in him
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