rask_balavoine
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My stories
Too much Proust.
Under the influence of too much Proust I became sluggish of mind and bowel. I was just nineteen. I spent most mornings in bed, unable to bring myself...
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- 356 reads
Renzo's end.
Annabel smoked loudly as she stood back to take in a view of the Doge's palace. It was as if smoking loudly was the most natural thing to do if you...
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- 232 reads
Apples of democracy.
At some point last night I fell into the kingdom of dreams, a turbulent little spot that can engender confusion, fear or the deepest of disappointing...
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- 340 reads
November moan.
It’s ten in the evening The tenth of November I’m warming my feet By the fast-fading embers The window is frosted The garden is dusted With...
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- 295 reads
Dietrich and back again.
Marlene Dietrich bought me a drink this evening in a bar downtown. She said I looked sad and lonely but I assured her I was just hungry. I asked her...
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- 236 reads