“I would like to lie on your bare chest and kiss you again,” said Alice.
She slipped her arm under mine as if to seek protection in the folds of my body but I felt like a child soothed in her embrace. Each step we took through the mist revealed a new tree broken from its roots and lain flat on grass that shone with the morning dew.
I replied: “Why does your father always talk to me about religion?”
February 1992
Veintitrés. High Lands Vo’ob Xcha’-vinik. Alice Part 3