Sara K’s Reviews > Sin > Status Update
Sara K
is on page 16 of 169
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My grandfather and my father returned from London each weekend and persued male pastimes of fishing, hunting, cards. Weekends at Lexington were full of male odours, of an alien pitch of laughter that as a child had thrilled me. Even the colour of Lexington had seemed to change- its red hue seemed daring and triumphant. During its female week it had seemed blood red, with black somewhere clotted in its depths
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— Nov 11, 2025 08:36AM
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My grandfather and my father returned from London each weekend and persued male pastimes of fishing, hunting, cards. Weekends at Lexington were full of male odours, of an alien pitch of laughter that as a child had thrilled me. Even the colour of Lexington had seemed to change- its red hue seemed daring and triumphant. During its female week it had seemed blood red, with black somewhere clotted in its depths
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Sara’s Previous Updates
Sara K
is on page 144 of 169
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Later, the inquest, investigation of Death. Pointless. For Death always commits the perfect murder. He has never been caught. He uses so many disguises. The face of illness. Or accident. Or violence. The list is endless. He is cruel, funny, macabre, wild, gentle. He is secret. Famous. He hides. Then leaps into full view. He is magnificent. Pathetic. Bathetic. But always, always, Death is triumphant.
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— Nov 12, 2025 08:33AM
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Later, the inquest, investigation of Death. Pointless. For Death always commits the perfect murder. He has never been caught. He uses so many disguises. The face of illness. Or accident. Or violence. The list is endless. He is cruel, funny, macabre, wild, gentle. He is secret. Famous. He hides. Then leaps into full view. He is magnificent. Pathetic. Bathetic. But always, always, Death is triumphant.
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Sara K
is on page 127 of 169
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Mothers! The things they know. The things they rememeber. A life before ones own memory. No wonder we long for escape. Theyd devour us if they could.
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— Nov 12, 2025 08:16AM
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Mothers! The things they know. The things they rememeber. A life before ones own memory. No wonder we long for escape. Theyd devour us if they could.
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Sara K
is on page 82 of 169
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Later Dominick lay beside me- his long nakedness dense and heavy on the bed. Men do not look right covered in a sheet. Sheets are a womans adornment. As the nakedness moved towards me I remembered the choreography. And afterwards. My cold eye. Questioning. I wondered if, in the cold eye, he found peace
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— Nov 11, 2025 04:07PM
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Later Dominick lay beside me- his long nakedness dense and heavy on the bed. Men do not look right covered in a sheet. Sheets are a womans adornment. As the nakedness moved towards me I remembered the choreography. And afterwards. My cold eye. Questioning. I wondered if, in the cold eye, he found peace
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Sara K
is on page 37 of 169
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"And what is the outward sign of this improvement?" I tried to sound mocking.
"Theres no outward sign Ruth. But I have changed. For example, I mock less."
I had been put in my place.
"Well, Hubert, your English has certainly improved. No problem with nuance anymore.
He laughed.
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— Nov 11, 2025 09:59AM
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"And what is the outward sign of this improvement?" I tried to sound mocking.
"Theres no outward sign Ruth. But I have changed. For example, I mock less."
I had been put in my place.
"Well, Hubert, your English has certainly improved. No problem with nuance anymore.
He laughed.
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Sara K
is on page 26 of 169
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No one in the world- no one knew my thoughts. God? I wondered idly. Did God know? Or knowing, care?
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— Nov 11, 2025 09:15AM
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No one in the world- no one knew my thoughts. God? I wondered idly. Did God know? Or knowing, care?
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Sara K
is on page 24 of 169
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When perfection is defiled it is hard to resist the pleasures of destruction, and of lies, and of concupiscence. For then the sacrifice is nothing. And so I stood, rose-coloured, beside the lily, and examined quietly the tiny thorns of my bouquet.
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— Nov 11, 2025 09:12AM
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When perfection is defiled it is hard to resist the pleasures of destruction, and of lies, and of concupiscence. For then the sacrifice is nothing. And so I stood, rose-coloured, beside the lily, and examined quietly the tiny thorns of my bouquet.
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Sara K
is on page 10 of 169
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The prose is amazing! How can such, at times, abstract writing make so much sense and convey such strong emotions and images!?
Josephine Hart is a new favourite. Omg shes incredible
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— Nov 11, 2025 07:52AM
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The prose is amazing! How can such, at times, abstract writing make so much sense and convey such strong emotions and images!?
Josephine Hart is a new favourite. Omg shes incredible
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