“Remove this section altogether, and shift the rest of the layout. ” Michael stared her straight in the eye. unning the risk of crushing some small creeping thing, too small to be seen, going about its blameless life. “We don’t always have a choice,” she whispered.
I imagined myself lunging at him. He moved toward another topiary easy-chair, then stopped, bent down, and sat on the mossy floor, letting it brush against his feet, his ankles, the palms of his hands and his wrists. At last he chooses one of the women—she does not look much like the martyred one, but she is darker than the others—and lets her lead him to her room behind the place where they dance. ng on benches—”The bears were resting now, lolling on their backs, happy tongues sloppy in the corners of their mouths.
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