I knew that what I recognized as Louise's restless intelligence was at work, weighing up possibilities, considering and discounting, but I left it alone.
A dark haired woman was sitting in a corner by the wall and next to her was an empty table, so I sat down, glancing at her in passing. She lifted her head and gave a bright smile, which I returned. Nice eyes I thought, probably a nice woman. We had exchanged that brief moment of mutual recognition, two human beings who for one small pause in eternity had noticed each other's existence and had thought it to be alright.
Flight In the swift and stinging wind he startles, stirs, turns down to the dark that surrounds, drowns him and deliberate dares. The artful plunge, plummeting, so playfully done, down in the strange and shapeless air,
Here, there I have been here for hours, I could watch you for hours, beneath the eye of the moon and in the night's soft places. I could think there were angels, I could believe in dreams.
Louis was a nice boy, but he was misunderstood. That burned away inside of him like a fire he thought would never go out. He was also a clever boy, but no one much noticed that. What people noticed about Louis was that he was bad. He gave you lip. He shouted and raved, he got into fights. So they called him bad, tried to forget about him and hoped that one day he would just go away.