Dixon was alive again….The light did him harm, but not as much as looking at things did; he resolved, having done it once, never to move his eyeballs again. A dusty thudding in his head made the scene before him beat like a pulse. His mouth had been used as a latrine by some small creature of the night, and then as its mausoleum. During the night, too, he’d somehow been on a cross-country run and then been expertly beaten up by secret police. He felt bad.
Lucky Jim. Kingsley Amis.
Jan 18, 2016 at 3:11 pm
This is the exact reason I avoid tequila.
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Sep 11, 2014 at 4:51 am
sounds gross
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Sep 11, 2014 at 5:02 am
No, its funny
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