#pg-13

The coolly sunny study was billowing but orderly, a thick seer-sucker gingham curtain open to the sands and sea, all tinted pale blue. The books spread across the desk-substitute work table-top as if this was their natural habitat: small ones that often didn't matter much and were read by specialists as if under a magnifying glass for arcane information, medium-sized standards in the field, thematic examinations that made everyone smile and say, "I know that one!" with camaraderie and hope, and one or two weighty blocks that made even Stella smile with pride and faith in human achievement, literary sensitivity, and the ability to understand them.

It was one of those quiet days, when she was almost gone in body and spirit, while he was lifting ideas with head and shoulders as she flit about the house and nourished her own genius and intellect on observation, contemplation, and whatever enjoyment came.

Stella softly walked into the room. "I just wanted to look," she said, "in the truest sense of what is looking."

Not too long later, he found her straight with total emptiness and limp on their bed. He picked her up by sliding arms up her back, and held her as they both sat, offering her the comfort and company that they had found only in each other.

Five minutes later, they were rocking into each other.

On his knees

In worship.

Says my voice is like a holy hymn

To his ears.

We exit the stage

Out of breath,

Bleach stains

Salaries $200 Utilities $150 Rent $800 Sexy little socks $3600 Insurance $150

someone who is good at accounting please help me budget this. my business is failing