Other Writings





April, 1975

The moon shone brightly though the curtains.  Full moon.  Gauzy curtains.  Queen bed. Elsewhere in the house the children slept.  He lay heavily over her body.  He smelled of his own odor and of men’s cologne.  His face was focused with effort, his eyes closed as if he were imagining someone else as he rose above her like a warrior.  Was he imagining his former sweetheart?   The one who had jilted him?  Or a forbidden blonde fraulein?