I will take you out for a drink if you can guess who wrote the below. No Googling, please! Send answers to Siobhan, itinerantdaughterandson@gmail.com.
“As for minute joys: as I was saying: do you realize the illicit sensuous delight I get from picking my nose? I always have, ever since I was a child –– there are so many subtle variations of sensation. A delicate, pointed-nailed fifth finger can catch under dry scabs and flakes of mucous [in the nostril and draw them out to be looked at, crumbled between fingers, and flicked to the floor in minute crusts. How many desks and chairs have I thus secretly befouled since childhood? Or something there will be blood mingled with the mucous; in dry brown scabs, or bright sudden wet red on the finger that scraped too rudely in the nasal membranes. God, what a sexual satisfaction! It is absorbing to look with new sudden eyes on the old worn habits: to see a sudden luxurious and pestilential ‘snot-green sea,’ and shiver with a shock of recognition.”
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