“He walked ahead, marking out for her a path…” p.39
“… together we are separated by a locked room. Where oNe stands, they stand. When alone, doubts translate into certainties (had he meant never for certain?) She had no hesitation in being inconsistent, when you add up all the forgetting she had to do, it was no surprise their pages were numbered differently. And yet they mysteriously followed each other down passages read and unread. Rubbing time together in the weightless waiting room. When Fanshawe began eternally recurring on page 199, a phone had already rung on page 3, and the potency of n turned dialogue inside out. In case he heard in another language she said…
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