Wednesday, March 04, 2009

An entrance, bathing and can't come in.

1. The rattle-click chord of Nick's key in the lock.

2. Stretching out full length in a warm bath and rubbing the soap out of my hair.

3. As we put the house and ourselves to bed, the wind in a temper throws itself against the windows.
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Steaming, cold and drawn away.

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