Get a drink? Burn in hell?
Last chance to do what?
The Last Chance. The Last Chance.
They were talking in their sleep.
More important still, was it a mistake, the whole thing?
He wished, afterwards, that she had looked at him, appraised him.
She looked around the room again.
I have to go.
I have a job there.
You mean you’d go anyway? Without me?
I haven’t seen you for a couple of weeks.
Few people on the street. No traffic.
There was nothing. There was no sound at all.
He knew he would never forget her.
The unpleasant part came when he woke up.
A haunting, beautiful dream.
He always had the same dream.
Silence in the room. Stillness.
Do you still believe it?
I believed the world was mine, all I had to do was reach out and take it.
In one way or another, it happens to everybody.
Therefore, I will drive.
You act as though you were driving a royal coach.
You drive too fast.
Why? Don’t you trust my driving?
I’ll drive.
The river was redgold along the edges.
Sometimes at night he’d heard her singing.
It’s the time of year.
What’s happened to you?
We might have been friends.
She could visualize disaster, see it, feel it.
Too much imagination, that was all.
It was the threat of force that you heard.
He’s air-borne, light as air.
You’re all right.
Neither of them said anything.
Could I live here?
There was so much light that there weren’t any ugly shadows on the walls.
He couldn’t go back to that house.
He didn’t say much.
You mustn’t ask questions when you were a guest in someone else’s house.
Gone Fishin’
There was a lot of light.
He would never be able to tell anyone and he would never be able to forget it.
He paused, remembering the early morning quiet of the street.
He turned and looked, too, saw no one.
It was like a dance, a crazy kind of dance.
He couldn’t picture it in his mind.
A mouse ran across the kitchen floor.
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