“Truman wills himself awake, peacock-plume eyed, empty champagne bottle in his lap. He squints toward the open door, where the chauffeur stands with the sun at his back, features obscured, surrounded by a halo of light.
“Mr. Angel-otti… Have we reached the City of Your Kind?”
“Welcome to Los Angeles, Mr. Capote.”
“Give me your arm, dear angel boy, and help me to fly.”
Extract from ‘Swan Song’ – included in the showcase
