Why is it that one can look at a lion or a planet or an owl or at someone's finger as long as one pleases, but looking into the eyes of another person is, if prolonged past a second, a perilous affair?
Walker Percy, author (1916-1990)
She turns towards me while opening the door — The two cavities under her collarbones, dark under the scorching lightbulb — — Her shirt...
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