Obviously this novel is full of it, but Bulgakov, much like Marquez, makes it so enjoyable:
(…) there in a leather armchair, sobbing uncontrollably and clutching a wet handkerchief, her head thrown back and her legs stretched out into the middle of the room was Prokhor Petrovich’s personal secretary, the beautiful Anna Richardovna.
She had lipstick all over her chin and black streams of mascara ran down her eyelashes and over her peachlike cheeks.
When she saw who had come in, Anna Richardovna jumped up and threw herself at the bookkeeper. Grabbing his lapels, she shook him and screamed, "Thank God! At least there’s one brave soul!"
Behind the huge desk with its massive inkwell sat an empty suit, moving a pen with no ink in it over sheet of paper. The suit was wearing a tie, and had a fountain pen sticking out of its breastpocket, but there was no neck and no head above the collar, nor were there any wrists poking out of the sleeves. The suit was hard at work and completely oblivious to the confusion raging all around." (p. 158)
Don’tcha just love it?
The Lost Children: A Charity Anthology
I do love it. What a neat approach. Subtracting the body and only leaving the emotion. I especially liked the last part about the writer behind the desk. That would be the writer — all write!