As my brain absorbed these other names, the colors seemed to shift. The names themselves were changing how I saw the colors.
By day, he protected businesses from thieves and corrupt police. By night, he changed into sequined gowns to sing and dance in Rio de Janeiro’s cabarets.
When a new drug regime gave him a renewed lease of life, Morrison began to receive irate calls from the investor who’d bought over his insurance policies.
Marjorie Hillis’s 1930s self-help bestseller, which celebrated women’s happiness, met a strange fate in England.
The paradox of blushing.