Al Pacino, take note

Easing back into this by borrowing someone else’s work….

I’m reading Garrison Keillor’s book, Liberty. In the early pages, an older man—one of Keillor’s Minnesota Lutherans, a mechanic who would rather be sybaritically surfing in Santa Barbara—is comically and touchingly obsessed by a young woman. “She smelled,” we are told, “like young corn, buttered.”



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