Jiving through his act like a tap-dancer on crack, he narrowly avoids the circle of tea-lights in paper bags marking out the central ‘stage’.
Terry awoke with sore eyes and a tar-coated tongue, brain shifting like egg yolk ready to split. He snatched a bowl by his feet, filled it with some cheap wine from his gut.
Because of Ms. Regan, I am able to work here. She is an important psychoanalyst. She says, ‘of all the teenage volunteers I've known, you're the brightest!’
One day Ian McEwan was walking down the street, thinking about the world. Suddenly, a seventeen year old boy scurried over to him and said ‘I love you I love you Ian McEwan.