A love, a wind
We made a long and slow love. A wind came up and the windows trembled slightly, the sugar set fragiley ajar by the wind. I like Pauline's body and she said that she liked mine, too, and we couldn't think of anything to say. The wind suddely stopped and Pauline said, "What's that?"
"It's the Wind."
A lamb at false dawn
Pauline began talking in her sleep at false dawn from under the watermelon covers. She told a little story about a lamb going for a walk. "The lamb sat down in the flowers," she said. "The lamb was all right," and that was the end of the story. Pauline often talks in her sleep. Last week she sang a little song. I forget how it went. I put my hand on her breast. She stirred in her sleep. I took my hand off her breast and she was quiet again. She felt very good in bed. There was a nice sleepy smell coming from her body. Perhaps that is where the lamb sat down.
We made a long and slow love. A wind came up and the windows trembled slightly, the sugar set fragiley ajar by the wind. I like Pauline's body and she said that she liked mine, too, and we couldn't think of anything to say. The wind suddely stopped and Pauline said, "What's that?"
"It's the Wind."
A lamb at false dawn
Pauline began talking in her sleep at false dawn from under the watermelon covers. She told a little story about a lamb going for a walk. "The lamb sat down in the flowers," she said. "The lamb was all right," and that was the end of the story. Pauline often talks in her sleep. Last week she sang a little song. I forget how it went. I put my hand on her breast. She stirred in her sleep. I took my hand off her breast and she was quiet again. She felt very good in bed. There was a nice sleepy smell coming from her body. Perhaps that is where the lamb sat down.
In Watermelon Sugar, Richard Brautigan
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