Word: cluttering
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...Waits' black '64 Thunderbird is parked in a used car lot, up against a graffiti-covered wall. That is, one imagines the T-Bird is black. Caked with an impenetrable layer of L.A. dirt, the broad-flanked sedan could be chartreuse for all anyone can tell. Inside floats a clutter of unmailed bills, unopened letters, wadded-up Kleenex, a portable AM radio (antenna broken), a cardboard box full of old, yellowing T-shirts, and a paperback wedged in the crevice where windshield meets dashboard. Its title, Invade My Privacy, is fading fast in the sun. The auto's left rear...
...lobby is hushed. No clutter of gaudy valises. No flurry of conventioneers. No signs. No bells. The guests are greeted by name by a concierge at a Queen Anne escritoire. In their suite they find that the staff not only has left them the usual basket of fruit but has also remembered their taste for violets, which are in a Baccarat bowl, and Degas prints. Returning after dinner, they find that the triple- sheeted bed has been turned down, with Godiva mints set on the pillow and a small bottle of cognac on the night table. Before retiring they...
...tried to rid his mind of the clutter of theory that had so preoccupied...
...elegant fingertips. His piercing, unblinking deep-chestnut eyes spoke of the Spanish soul's passion. Even after he began to prosper, he was content to dress and live like a Spanish peasant, eating beans and drinking coarse red wine, in loud cafes and private rooms of indescribable clutter. And though it was in France that he found fame and fortune, he remained curiously indifferent to that nation's life struggles in two world wars and a depression. To the outside world, it seemed that the only external event that seared Picasso's imagination and conscience...
...none. When the reporter continues to lunge for the definitive statement, the quotable quote, McGraw smiles and whispers, "I'm just living my life now." Her earnestness is infectious and everyone smiles. In fact, McGraw leaves a trail of fans wherever she goes. As she leaves Channel 56, secretaries clutter around for signatures and as she writes our her name on someone's napkin, she asks one woman what kind of perfume she is wearing and another where she got her arm's length of bracelets. McGraw even consents to posing for a photograph with a man who "wants...