Bookworm, writer, radio host—I blog about history, fiction, and publishing in the Internet Age. You can find the full blog on my website. This space is for books.
From Lee Smith, Guests on Earth, p. 56:
Meanwhile I could not keep myself from staring at the Fitzgeralds, even though I knew it was rude to stare. I also knew instinctively that they would never notice me anyway, just a skinny little girl in whom they could have no possible interest. Mrs. Fitzgerald wore a purplish coat and a gray cloche hat. She looked dull and almost ugly. He wore a tweed jacket and a white shirt and red bowtie, incongruously jaunty. Neither one of them ever spoke. They sat like dolls in a window staring out upon the world beyond them, a world they no longer owned. She was smoking. The waiter came with beer after beer.
For more on why I love this book, see http://blog.cplesley.com/2014/01/broken-vessels.html.