Jon crossed the pass into Glen Maraich in a stinging flurry of sleet, heading down between dark walls of rock under a lowering sky.

She learned that I was using her to track the involuntary kevorks.

Later still, her images became highly stylized, intricate, with obsessed, repetitive motifs, labyrinthine, until they resembled Louis Wain's crystalline cats. Such drawings are also rather characteristic of Tourette's syndrome — the original form, the original thought, lost in a jungle of embellishment — and in the so-called 'speed-art' of amphetaminism.

When she told him to get lost, he said, Blow me, bitch!