I was sitting on sea ice when I heard a little peep over my shoulder.
Laura Mullen | Enduring Freedom: A Little Book of Mechanical Brides
Elena Ferrante | My Brilliant Friend
She sipped her drink and stared at me over it with a faint smile of contempt.
"I’m beginning to think you write your own dialogue," I said. "I’ve been wondering just what was the matter with it."
I ducked. A few drops splattered me. The glass splintered on the wall behind me. The broken pieces fell soundlessly.
"And with that," she said, completely calm, "I believe I must have used up my entire stock of girlish charm."
R Chandler, The Little Sister New York: 1995 (1949). hbk, 265