Flash Fried, Not Slow Roasted
An excerpt from a past life, my future novel…
What in God’s name had I been thinking? I was twenty-five years old. I had to face facts: being with a man R.’s age was fast, bland, uninspired— I would always be the fresh catch of the day that had been flash-fried instead of slow roasted…


March 22nd, 2006 at 5:52 pm
Hi!
Thanks for Being There.
For so many of us. And writing about is all so lovingly.
I have no better word.
March 27th, 2006 at 6:30 am
Wow, can’t wait for more…