So the books for the Englishman, as he listened intently or not, had gaps of plot like sections of a road washed out by storms, missing incidents as if locusts had consumed a section of tapestry, as if plaster loosened by the bombing had fallen away from a mural at night.
I don't want to be coy. It's so important for me to be as genuine as possible, so I don't want to stop when it comes to rendering sex the way that most people have it, which is unclothed.