James Proctor’s Reviews > The Sea > Status Update

At times the image of her would spring up in me unbidden, an interior succubus, and a surge of yearning would engorge the very root of my being.

When she was little and slept in this room, in this bed, she liked to hear the sound of the typewriter from the study downstairs. It was a comforting sound, she said, like listening to me think, although I do not know how the sound of me thinking could comfort anyone; quite the opposite, I should have said.