“We are like trapped flies with our feet not in honey but in venom.” —Eudora Welty, “Must the Novelist Crusade?” Why are you so married to realism? my husband asked. Not my real husband, but the one I have in fiction. Is there a word for the pale nimbus around the shadow of one’s head in the dew on the grass in the morning? Not an aureole so much as an argentiole.
Feet in venom
Feet in venom
Feet in venom
“We are like trapped flies with our feet not in honey but in venom.” —Eudora Welty, “Must the Novelist Crusade?” Why are you so married to realism? my husband asked. Not my real husband, but the one I have in fiction. Is there a word for the pale nimbus around the shadow of one’s head in the dew on the grass in the morning? Not an aureole so much as an argentiole.