Mrs. Barclay
in her chair,
afloat in a yellow
flowered
dress. her spoon
lightly
tapping
the China cup,
dropping more sugar in
and spilling
cream
into the steam.
how wonderful she was.
almost
too polite
and shy.
too kind with her words.
her voice
a whisper.
so it surprised me
when she asked me to read
her new novel,
about drugs, and sex
and crime.
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