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Metaphors II Sweet whisper of the grapevine serene Monday twilight treacle and cream cheese impeccable homely blessings granite and slate limbs of the glyph in the endlessness of blue sky yellow wheat fields dry fallen pine-needles, wish for expected moist innumerable city lights the beggar’s empty cup wind hitting the window shutters bread hardened on the shelf glaucous insubordinate sea, abundant conches and seashells reddish autumn leaves falling teardrops of separation wanderer of plains and hilltops darkened fate of innocence who I have been
Off to the right a dark shape took form against the sky. The stable! The star had led them to the stable. Ronnie hoisted Bobby up and onto his shoulders again, and tried to run towards the building, but snow and fatigue had slowed him down. He could only keep on plodding, Rachael following. But now her steps felt lighter as they hurried as fast as they could towards the promised warmth and rest. Ronnie reached the building first, lowered Bobby to the ground, and began to tug on the door. Snow had piled layer upon layer in front of it. Rachael came up beside him and started working with all her remaining strength to help him scoop the snow away with hands and feet. At last he was able to tug the door towards them. Holding Bobby by the hand, he pushed their way inside. Rachael followed. But this was no stable, and there wasn’t an animal in sight or sound. The darkness made her shudder, and she stumbled as her foot caught in a broken floorboard. A stale odour brought a memory of a building on Uncle Morley’s farm. “It’s a granary,” Ronnie announced. “At least it’s shelter.” Rachael, her teeth chattering, and her knees trembling from cold and anxiety, found Bobby in the darkness and wrapped her arms around him. His little body shook as he snuggled up against her. “Wher … where are we, R…Rachael?” “We’re in a building … somewhere.” “I wanna g … go home, I d … don’t wanna stay here, I’m c … cold, Rachael, an’ I’m hungry.” Ronald, relentless in his insistence, took Bobby by the arm. “C’mon, old man, we have to keep moving. You, too, Rachael. Keep moving, c’mon.” “How can we?” Rachael asked sullenly. “There’s nowhere to walk, an’ it’s awful dark in here.” “Just keep walking back and forth. And we have to stay close to each other to keep warm.” She almost laughed. Keep warm? Is he kidding? I’ll never be warm again. But she had to admit that it was a little better in the building
Bouquet of Roses I saw this evening like a bouquet of roses a faint fragrance golden abundant in the street and in the heart sudden benevolence the overcoat on hand the moon on the turning face you could say the atmosphere was electrified by the kisses thoughts and poems needless weight. I have my broken wings I don’t know why this summer is upon us for which hopeless joy for which love for which dreamy voyage?
“I’ve been thinking about that,” Jennifer said. “I’m going to ask that American from Tennessee if he will wear Paul’s jacket in sight of Natasha and Chopyk. He’s about the right height and if he were seen from the back, they might think it was Paul.” “That should work for tomorrow,” Ted chipped in, “but I’m not sure when we part company with the Americans. Does anyone know when they fly back?” “Then that’s the next order of business. Find out as much as we can about the next leg of their trip.” “I’ve been thinking about the head count problem,” said Hank. “I like Jennifer’s suggestion about the guy who wears Paul’s jacket. We could also use the oldest trick in the book.” “And what’s that?” Hank turned to Jennifer and said, “Smile. Have some coffee. You’re looking terminally serious tonight. The best thing we can do right now is lighten up. Watch.” Always the show-off, Jennifer thought. He looked around for the waiter who had given up on their table and was busy cadging a cigarette from one of the Americans. Hank caught the eye of the fuzzy-headed blonde waitress who Jennifer had liked; she had given some of the women authentic recipes for pelmeny and semolina cakes. “Last day, my good friend,” Hank spoke to her charmingly. She smiled, pouring coffee all around and slopping some on the table. “Will you come on deck and wave us all goodbye tomorrow?” Hank continued. She giggled. “Please come on deck and say ‘till we meet again’ to me. Bring all the staff.” He smiled winningly. “I am through dinner service at 10 p.m.” she said pointedly. “Come to my cabin and I have a souvenir for you.” When the waitress left, rolling her hips, the reaction at the table was full of suppressed laughter. The speed and intensity of the complete sexual manoeuvre astounded Jennifer. Had she ever fallen for something like this? Of course she had. “I presume that this display of libido is part of the plan?” “Sort of…I didn’t really intend to start a last minute affair. What I want is for all the staff to be up on deck as we leave. Have you ever heard of the old Chinese fire drill?” David nodded, but Jennifer shook her head. “Apart from its racist overtones…no, tell me.”