this was the wonderful thing about strangers. they were big blank pieces of paper, you could draw watever you like on their impresionable surfaces
Janet FitchBeauty was empty as a gourd, vain as a parakeet. But it had power. It smelled of musk and oranges and made you close your eyes in a prayer.
Janet FitchI tried writing fiction as a little kid, but had a teacher humiliate me, so didn't write again until I was a senior in college.
Janet FitchHe reminded me of someone who put your fingers in the door and smiled and talked to you while he smashed them.
Janet Fitch