
Literary Friction - Dancing Time with Jacqueline Crooks
Literary Friction
How to Write a Novel
This man's trouble. I can tell by his use of pull one, the size of his belt and the way he dukes himself into my centre of gravity. He puts his mouth to my ear, warm breath, simmer down, flattens his palms against my batty and pulls me back in. Version after B-side instrumental version, he grips me, wordless. We're iniquipped in the thick of duppy dust, lost rivers, streams and sewers bubbling beneath us. Best give up your body for one tune at the very least. Pull three, soft boy tap on shoulder. Options, none.
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