...the ripening of grapes on the vine, the soft lull of bees, the scent of roses in bloom, a hard book in my hand, and the warm sun on my breasts... reading in the garden is a sensual feast.
“A nude woman was sitting on the edge of a desk next to a globe of the world. The suggested onanism with the piece of chalk intrigued Ignatius. Her face was hidden behind a large book.”
