A lady always does.
Havent thought much about it really I studied English.
Hoping this will reach you at a favorable moment.
Most of it is interesting if you are interested in it.
Very possible to fall, she said, I get a falling feeling.
A certain butcherliness not inappropriate.
Thats right. Holding on tight.
Thought I heard a hog barking.
Follow a track by night.
What?
Hard to tell. Dominant tempo of our national life.
Old Danish saying.
Fill his brain full of frisks.
In wild places far from the heart.
Have to be a little bit tougher.
Thats what I said you hard of hearing or something?
Being raised in the faith felt foul?
Julie moved to Emma.
Constant memory in the making.
Will you let him see it?
The wink is a classic device for establishing.
In extenso.
Like a photograph of a photograph.
Tricycle a bit in the evenings, now.
Thought I heard a dog barking.
Ive heard that. You must have studied anatomy.
I think foreplay is the most interesting part.
Make his ear glow.
I really didnt mean that really.
Move up more under my breasts so that the bottoms of the breasts can rest upon the tops of the arms, said Julie.
I can understand that.
No.
Fish scales, wastepaper.
Steer by the stars.
Tiny silvered hairs that I had thought mine alone.
Where the buffalo roam.
The vulgarest. Vulgarity everywhere.
Ive heard that.
How did that feel?
The mountain. The cathedral. The stone steps. Music. Looking down. The windows, apertures. Rows of seated people. The altars, lights, singing. Egg-shaped apertures like seats opening onto the void. The drop. The clouds. Slipping in the seat. Thomas slipping in the seat. Toward the void. Brace foot against edge. Lean back hooking shoulder around opening. Out strolling on the grounds. Flowers blue with a border of white. The Dead Father strolling. Julie strolling. Others strolling. Edmund strolling. The music, a Kyrie. The edge. The fall. Stone steps. Mandrills staring. Photographers and cooks. Thomas sitting in the sloping seat. Slipping toward the edge. Braces foot against the outer wall, which trembles. Hooks shoulder around inner wall and grasps with left hand. Out strolling. Julie speaking to the Dead Father. The Dead Father smiling. People sitting on stone benches. Processional. Under a canopy. Golden censers swinging left right left right. Tall old man in golden mitre. Acolytes. Rings with amethysts. The edge. Looking over the edge. Sheer walls. Clouds. Thomas slipping in the seat. Braces right foot against outer wall. A quilt or blanket slipping toward the edge. Shoulder hooked around inner wall. The wall trembling. The alcove shaped like an egg. Quilt slipｗwｗ.9９lｉｂ.netping toward the edge. Singing. The mountain. A set of stone steps. The cathedral. Bronze doors intricately worked with scenes. Row of grenadiers in shakos. Kneeling. Interior of the egg. Painted brick, white, curving. Rug or quilt of blue and red slipping toward the edge. In the walls of the cathedral. Windows over the edge. Dies irae, dies illa. The Dead Father sitting in the cathedral gardens. Julie sitting at his feet. The Dead Fathers head thrown back against the wall. Julie sketching. Edmund standing near the edge. Edmund eating. People climbing the stone steps in pairs. Standing near the edge. Bronze doors opening. Confessionals in rows. Grenadiers. Acolytes two-by-two under the red canopy. Seminarians following, through the doors. Curving white-painted brick but a stone is loose, several. Pressure against the right edge, which trembles. Grasping the inner edge. Trying to wedge shoulder against the rear wall but the rug is sliding toward the edge. Erotic and religious experience. Thomas strolling about the gardens. The Dead Fathers head thrown back against walls of the cathedral. Julie sketching. Slipping. Sketching. Slipping.
I was raised partly in and partly out of the faith.
The whole thing hinges.
Hes a drunk. Which one? All of them. Must be a reason for that.
I thanked the large black 九九藏书woman and withdrew.
Be grateful if you could find the time to see me.
Youth comes to the fore, youth has its hour of glory.
Faces.
Want to get better but seem to be getting worse.
Its the urge to confess.
So fucking vulgar you wouldnt believe it.
I read about it. In Politikken.
Were you raised in the faith?
Really?
Yes. Ervings.
Im surprised. I didnt know.
Must be a reason for that.
The tops of the brown arms, said Julie.
Eats his kids they say.
Im not into that.
I was raised in the faith.
One of the most vulgar. Most consistently vulgar.
Not in front of me, said the Dead Father.
Gray day, gray day.
Yes chocolate butter.
Yes very vulgar. Vulgar to a fault.
Is that horseman still following? Emma asked.
The whites of the bottoms of the breasts, said Thomas.
I read about it. In a book.
Thats true.
She was?
Your many kindnesses and especial favor.
It was the damnedest thing.
Its been so long, been so long.
I remember.
The bourgeois press told stories.
Told them how Lenin had appeared to her in a dream.
Vulgarity everywhere.
What?
Were you raised in the faith?
Some people like consummation.
Give you a shot in the kisser.
Ive heard about it.
Yes Ive heard that.
It is possible to fall here, Julie said.
Its sunset across the bay.
Thats your opinion.
Two dozen white roses accompanied by his card.
Happy to have been
99lib.netable to spend this time with you.
Probably we should have spoken up before this.
Holding on tight.
Attending, departing, arriving, ignoring.
So as not to have to defecate while being accessible to others for talk.
Foul.
Throws you into no-go situations.
Still following, Thomas said. Still.
Yes foreplay is the most interesting part.
The care that a bystander is obliged to exert for an accessible encounter extends past civil inattention to the question of how and when he can present himself for official participation.
What?
Tried to get a handle on it.
What?
Now let us briefly review the kinds of.
She is?
Have you tried any of the others?
Always arms to put around you, always and everywhere, said Thomas.
Chocolate butter?
Repetition is reality.
Been so long, so long.
Sorry to hear that.
Ive heard that. But in my opinion foreplay is the most interesting part. Its more interesting.
Free to leave at any moment.
Its pencil shavings in the wind.
Also possible to be a damned fool.
It was the damnedest thing.
Therell always be another chance tomorrow.
One way to look at it.
Forever and ever and ever and ever.
Faces?
Im not into that.
Extremely interested in this position.
She was vulgar.
Joyous and without joy.
I had rubbed myself thoroughly with oil and I carried a large flask of whiskey.
Something about faces.
I was i九九藏书网ll, endless series of unpleasant dreams.
Dont blame you I was raised in the faith.
What?
Wild and free and.
Glad to hear it.
I can take care of myself.
Her charms had made it possible for her to gain a close insight.
Arms around me, she said, that is what I like.
No you cant.
Where can a body get a baiser around here?
Thats your opinion.
I read about it in the Corriere della Sera.
He stuck his sword in the ground and put his arms around her.
Been waiting all day.
What?
I was wrong I realize that now wrong.
You werent raised in the faith ?
I didnt really mean that really.
Yes foul. Foul foul foul.
Yes.
Thats one way of looking at it.
What?
Its red sails in the sunset.
Its moons over Miami.
Are you frightened, beloved? Thomas asked.
Then your bed was taken away from you.
Always been very interested in faces.
Years not unmarked by hideous strains.
Some people like to get it the hell over with.
Covered with butter.
Spent his time wetting the bottoms of women.
The terrible temptation which was assailing me will now be understood.
Yes I mean I was but I busted out.
This idiot had led a thoroughly disorderly life.
Not sad or serious.
No there wont.
I feel it, said Thomas.
Yes. Slit your nose for you.
Very vulgar.
Attending, departing.
Inching by dying by.
Yes faces.
It felt foul?
They disengaged.
Pray to St. Jude. And Ganesha.