I told her I would like to take her to dinner. I wore a nice pair of khaki pants and a polo shirt. She surprised me with a short black dress. “Where...did that come from? “ I thought to myself. She was so beautiful. It was loose below and came down just under her round ass. The neckline plunged low enough to show half of her breasts and she wore a type of bra that stuck them out and together for an unbelievable cleavage. As I watched her put on her clothes, I noticed that she put on a pair of. The role of a writer is not to say what we all can say, but what we are unable to say.It is the function of art to renew our perception. What we are familiar with we cease to see. The writer shakes up the familiar scene, and, as if by magic, we see a new meaning in it.There are very few human beings who receive the truth, complete and staggering, by instant illumination. Most of them acquire it fragment by fragment, on a small scale, by successive developments, cellularly, like a laborious. More

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