Wednesday, December 26, 2012

from A Game of Hide and Seek, Elizabeth Taylor

Now that evening had come she was more confident.  She could even believe that for everybody there is perhaps another person who will not fade on approach; with whom it might not be entirely like those fishes in tanks, crossing and re-crossing, weaving their way through the water, fearing only, it seems, to touch one another; gliding upwards and away instinctively when their paths threatened to meet.