by
Ellen Ullman
His cheeks went hot, his hands cold. Now he could feel how angry he was, could let the anger take him over—now that the alcohol had changed it, his anger, made it not more distant but bigger, more dramatic, heroic, like he was walking around in some other guy’s feelings. Yes, much better now, a strapping, swaggering, muscular guy, the sort who took his anger out on chins and noses.
lol