“Francis, barefoot and still in his bathrobe, stepped precariously over rocks and branches, balancing his glass of ginger ale. Once we got to the lake he waded in, up to his knees, and beckoned dramatically like Saint John the Baptist.”
- The Secret History (Donna Tartt)
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darkacademyrimbaud posted this “Francis, barefoot and still in his bathrobe, stepped precariously over rocks and branches, balancing his glass of...