994 3 2
|
Friday afternoon. Angelique Brody knocked Francesco’s studio door.
|
887 1 1
|
The funk of wet wool, stinky feet, reeking armpits, stale beer and fried food created a bohemian fetor.
|
1220 5 4
|
I was always bi-polar. I didn’t realize it was a mental illness until my divorce lawyer had the court order a psychiatric analysis.
|
1126 5 4
|
—You know, Angelique, said Elaine Aster, dabbing her lips with a napkin, I’ve opened a new gallery in Paris.
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1144 5 2
|
—Now that’s a hell-of-a-painting, Frank, he said. Those colors are engaged in warfare. How the hell did you do that?
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1097 4 2
|
I visited his loft last week. There were many exciting new pictures. Francesco was your main money earner before, now he will be again.
|
924 4 2
|
Vicki's scream echoed in Michiko's ear, an unwelcome earworm.
|
1210 6 3
|
—Frank, how is your sex life?
|
957 4 2
|
—Francesco, I wish you would give up smoking, said Michiko.
|
1191 8 5
|
—Mazel tov, schmazel tov!
|
1061 4 2
|
Frank was about to take the first bite of a chicken salad sandwich.
|
885 4 2
|
If I start getting rambunctious, put me in a cab.
|
1101 6 3
|
—Have you ever fired a gun?
|
995 4 2
|
The butterscotch on that painting makes me want to lick the canvas.
|
874 4 2
|
Rent yourself a decent place to live, one with a shower.
|