Books, or art, in commemoration of Savonarola's 1497 Florentine falò delle vanità (bonfire of the vanities).

“I used to spend afternoons reading in bed. Tommaso would call and find me there. He could have kissed me. I wouldn't have resisted, out of boredom. But he was satisfied to watch me as I read. All those purposeless books.”

– Lidia

A lavish #CocktailParty in celebration of the launch of a novel is bookended by tragedy, in the loss of a befriended writer and the unraveling of another writer and his wife's marriage.

At a poolside #CocktailParty, the swimmer appears. He notes that the houses in between his hosts' and his are connected by a “river” of #pools and decides to swim home, from one pool to the other, superficially meeting people, crashing suburban pool parties, in an increasingly irrational state.

“And the water up there. Remember? That transparent, light green water. It felt different. God, what a beautiful feeling. We could've swum around the world in those days.”

– Ned Merrill