She was by his side. His new wife’s face was sweet and angelic with hair the color of flax, her belly already visibly large beneath a roe skin pelt. He was not addicted to monologue, and the only audible comment he permitted himself at first upon a universe that was evidently anything but satisfactory to him that afternoon, was one compact and entirely unassigned “Damn!” The word must have had some gratifying quality, because he repeated it. She was always the last person to exit after the crowds had stampeded, trailing slowly behind them like dust.
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This video was uploaded to thenextfuture.net on 21-09-2024 04:17:56
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