(Untitled)

[jaredshelb]

I sat tonight with Ernest Hemingway and John Steinbeck, and neither seemed to interest the other much. Ernest would speak of the war, and no one ever knew to which war he was referring. He spoke of himself in the third person, as Papa, and talked of lions, or bulls, I don't know which. And John would nod off to sleep, waiting for his turn to

Comments

[anonymous]

kickass