Dip a slice of bread in batter. That's September: yellow, gold, soft and sticky. Fry the bread. Now you have October: chewier, drier, streaked with browns. The day in question fell somewhere in the middle of the french toast process.
Tom RobbinsAbout author
- Author's profession: Author, Writer
- Nationality: american
- Born: July 22, 1936
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What was the point of having a man if all he could do was turn his back and sleep? Not that she wanted him to do anything else, but in a way it was an insult. The turned back reminded her of all the various backs that had not been turned. Which was a depressing thought, because it meant she was beginning to live in the past. Backs That Were Never Turned. The Reminisces of Maria Delaney...No, it was not depressing. It was funny.
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