The Jaguar

I am thinking of my ex-husband and the scene he made at Union Station. The guard who escorted us out of the building had a tattoo of Jesus Christ on the side of his face so intricately detailed I could see the whites of Christ’s eyeballs and blood dripping from the crown of thorns.

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My Lord You (excerpt)

James Salter

There were crumpled napkins on the table, wineglasses still with dark remnant in them, coffee stains, and plates with bits of hardened Brie. Beyond the bluish windows the garden lay motionless beneath the birdsong of summer morning.

 

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