The Smell of a Man's Face

Lane deane had liked the smell of her right away. His mother called her down to earth, and liked her. Thought she was good people. She made this evident in little ways. The shallows lapped from different directions at the tree as if almost teething on it. If he moved to put his arm up or touch her, the whole thing could tip over. He hated himself for sitting so frozen. Was wrong. Knew something was required of him that was not this terrible, frozen care and caution. But he pretended to himself he did not know what it was that was required. He pretended it had no name. It would be cruel and indecent to do this