He understood how people could disappear, people had legs, people could run! But the house, the swimming pool, the Vergogna Phryne in marble and bronze…
He closed his eyes and was back.
He strolled out, past the variegated beds, past the vast sycamore and on down to the wooden jetty cut between river birch.
He stood at the water’s edge, breathing in breeze scented like warm skin. From the kitchen he could hear Sharon singing and mixing Long Island teas.
When he opened his eyes what he saw seemed less real.
literally stories 