Sublime

bouquet

Hitchcockian protagonist,

Two story lines at work, with different starting points but running parallel to each other.

The cry of this bird was audible only to certain special people, who were guided by it toward inescapable ruin. The will of human beings meant nothing, then, as the veterinarian always seemed to feel. People were no more than dolls set on tabletops, the springs in their backs wound up tight, dolls set to move in ways they could not choose, moving i

denouement.

I often think that I would love to live happily ever after with you and your young wife. And she would be such a lovely wife to you and I would have the occasional dinner with you both. A dinner I would be quite happy to cook myself, should you both be tired after your long day, as I’m sure you will be.

One of my clients who lived alone had twenty-two umbrellas.