All the books I read are very fond of detailed descriptions of tea and coffee and dessert and nice starched tablecloths.
Hipsters with their piercings and ugly pants came into Moretti today and asked if we had gluten-free bread. I wanted desperately if they were from Soho or something and got lost trying to get to Dumbo. Why in the almighty names of Juno and Tofu were they in Marine Park?
I am so tired I want to die.
Not really. Just until I stop being tired.
I refound this lovely song.