yellow american spirit,

by Rachel Lynch in

"There was something terrifically comfortable about being friends with her. She never read anything that was assigned, she never wore actual clothes, she had no idea what she wanted to do when she got out of school, and what really impressed me was she wasn't bothered by it in the least"

I bought a pack of yellow american spirits this morning before meeting outside the plaza coffee place. I love the way it looks, the brick town house building, bustling city streets, gray stairs up to the  dark green double doors, childhood new-york. Sitting down to conversation, she talked about a world between ours and the next. She isn't drawn into complete fantasy, but she likes things a little out of the ordinary. This women is full of knowledge and is wearing fantastic brown boots. I'm going to be working with her a little bit, she wants to use me as a character in one of her novels. Flattering, and I'm honored just to be listening under her wing. In summer she writes the climax of her novels, smells of Prague, and every sentence is just the right sentence.