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From: A Weakness in the Air

Here in the irrigo, one sleeps, wakes, sleeps again. When one cannot see the light, one is safer. A little safer.


The child and its companion

The cat (is it a lion? Shadows slide over its coat) watches as the child marks its name on the rock. "Papa," he says. "I miss you still. Come back for me." They turn and go. The marks on the rock are each a sign pointing dreamwards. This is Parabola.