Publisher's Synopsis
From "Ligature": Carlos was dying, but what, now, of that, since he had cut her off, his body, still walking about, the shaft of the lily iron; and, especially on cold days when the winter sun shone brilliantly, she would imagine the detached, barbed head of the iron set on a damask cloth, amongst silver, stemmed crystal, gold-rimmed plates, and the scatterings of salt around each miniature swan. Light would come through the voile curtains and the dark, polished floors would shine. He would take off the pea jacket and seat himself at the head of the table in the wing-back chair; he would smell of fish.
