novembre ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- she reaches up sleepily LOOKING INTO the darkness, I have optical floaters: there, on the opposite wall, are gears turning separately and then moving closer to one another until their cogs start to mesh and rotate in unison. Then I feel her hand on my back. She's accustomed by now to my night amnesias, and with what has become an almost automatic response, she reaches up sleepily from her side of the bed and touches me between the shoulder blades. In this manner the world's objects slip back into their fixed positions. from The Feast of Love by Charles Baxter 8:32 pm - 09.07.04 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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