MY BATHING SUIT HAS DARK GREY STRIPES THE COLOR OF BRAINS (1998)
“Jim,” I said to the hippo. “Why are you so glum?”
Jim rested his large, deep grey snout on the stony beach. The light was opaque and unpleasant. His eyes were half-closed, suggesting, paradoxically, both concentration and rest. Tufts of skin folded over his strong back and his forelegs were folded beneath him.
“My name’s not Jim,” Jim replied.
Jim rested his large, deep grey snout on the stony beach. The light was opaque and unpleasant. His eyes were half-closed, suggesting, paradoxically, both concentration and rest. Tufts of skin folded over his strong back and his forelegs were folded beneath him.
“My name’s not Jim,” Jim replied.
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