From: Suddenly Last Summer by Tennessee Williams
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What We Save From the Fire
Prologue I sit at my writing table late into the night, paralyzed by the weight of writing about a house that became a refuge where men came...
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Here I sit - nursing a scotch, looking out at the pink and orange reflection of the sunset on the mountain—pondering my solitary act of civi... -
I have, by some measure of recklessness or sheer geographic fidgeting, inhabited eight U.S. cities. Birmingham, New Orleans, Fort Lauderdale... -
On Saturday night at Belles, before the drag show, they'd play a slow song. One song. A chance for couples to touch, to be intimate. So ...
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